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COLUMBIA'S WREATH : 

OB, 
EOMPOSET* 

BETWEEN THE YEAES 1314, AND 1830, 

BY Ni BRASHEARS. 



SECOND EDITION, 

VITii COKRECTIOSS AH"D ADDITION &. 



Aut prottesse yolunt, aut delectare Poetse ; 

Aat siniul et jucunda etidonea dicere fitse. — Horace, 



Cits of ^Mutyinutan : 

PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR, 

tt> S. / Elliot, printer, mar itie Washington JLssembbj Room 

1830, 






S> 



» 



p. 



23tijtc»tiau. 



Honorable CHARLES CARROLL, of Caruolltos. 
the onlt surviving signer to 

the declaration op independence. 
Venerated Sir : 

Permit a native of Maryland to dedicate this little 
volume of American poetry to you. Your name is eminently 
identified with the very existence of our Republic, and Mary- 
land proudly owns you as a favorite son. 

Of that constellation of patriots, which so brilliantly shone 
in our political zodiac, but one stafi remains : that star yet 
shines with meridian splendor from the glorious Sun of Free- 
dom, that rose upon our land on the Fourth day of July, 1776. 
May its setting", in the horizon of life, be as peaceful and 
radiant as its course has been extensive and brilliant ! 
With profound respect, 

your fellow-citizen, 

THE AUTHOR, 



CONTENTS. 



Prefatory Re:mah.ks, by the printer, .... 7 

Modern Troy, 13 

-Lines on the Fourth of July, 1814, 16 

Ode to Liberty, 13 

Reply to certain Writers, - - - - - - 21 

Ode to Com. Decatur, - 22 

Dandy Hall, 25 

The Progress of Liberty, - - - - - - 29 

On American Poetry, - - - - - - - 31 

To the memory of Midshipman Wetherill, - - - 33 

Ode to Spring, 34 

Epigram on the trial of the late Queen of England, - 38 
Lines on the Celebration of Freedom, 1824, - - .39 

Fancy, ......... ib. 

On the death of Lord Byron, ------ 40 

Ode on visiting my native place, ----- 41 

Address to Gen. La Fayette, - - - - - - 42 

On Eloquence, --------46 

Epitaph on Thomas and William Haliday, <• - - ib. 
A Fragment, -----.---47 

Satire No. I. - - - - - - - - ib. 

No. II. 48 

No. HI. -------- 50 

on Intemperance, ------ 92 

on Presumption, - - - - - - -107 

on the Metropolis, - - - - - - 108 

Lines on the visit of Gen. La Fayette to the Tomb of 

Washington, 51 

On an old Coat, accidently torn in a revel, - - - 52 

Gen. La Fayette at the Theatre, with President Monroe, 53 

Lines on the Inundation of St. Petersburgh, - - ib. 

The Prison — a Fragment, - - - - - 54 

On Spring, addressed to Youth, ----- 56 

Sonnet, -..-59 

The Battle of Lego, versified from Ossian, 60 

National Song, July 4, 1825, - - - - - - 61 

r Ode on misspent time, --.----.- S3 

To the U. S.' ship Brandywine, in \vhich-,Gen= La Fayette 

embarked to France, ----..- 64 

^Reflections on resuming my Flaad Cloak, - - - SS 

1* 



Page 

Sabbath Reflections, - - - - - ■ . -67 

New Year's Ode for the Columbian Star, - - . 69 
Address for the Carriers of the Washington Gazette, - 70 
Modern Eceotia, ----..-.75 

Impromptu, ------„_. 76 

Admonitory lines, - - - - , - - - 77 

On a Christmas money bos, ------ ib. 

Pinkney's Grave, - - - - - ... 78 

On the fiftieth Anniversary of American Independence, ib. 
Stanzas to a young Midshipman, ..... SO 

on the City of Washington, - - - • - 82 

on Melancholy, 89 

on Hope, ib. 

on moral beauty, - -* - - - 95 

on a Scholar, ------- 9ft 

Reminiscence, - 100 

Impromptu, 82 

On Maj. Jos. Wheaton, 84 

The Poet and the Ass— a fable, 85 

To Erin — on Emmett's dying speech, 86 

Reflections on the heights of Georgetown, D. C. - 87 

Gen. Jackson's approach to the Metropolis of the Union, 90 

Battle of New-Orleans, 91 

Christmas verses, - - - -■- - - -94 
Address for the Carriers of the National Intelligencer, '28, 95 
Lines on R. Gibson's painting of the Falls of Niagara, - 98 

Out and In, - ib. 

" Beauty and Booty," 99 

The poet's happy hour, 101 

The proud man, -------- 102 

To Paul Plagiary, Esq. 103 

Address for the Carriers of the National Intelligencer, '30, ib. 
On the loss of the U. S.' ship Hornet, - - - - 105 

Elegy — to my father, 106 

The Slanderer, by the printer, - - -, - -111 

National Song, 112 

Prose pieces, 113-17 

Subscribers' Names, f: 118-20 



PREFATORY REMARKS BY THE PUBLISHER. 

The mind of man is so constructed that pleasure and pain arc 
the predominant feelings of the human character. Reason 
holds the balance : whenever pain preponderates, and leads to in- 
digence, a censurable opinion is entertained by the world of hu- 
man actions, and influences, in a greater or less degree, a man's 
subsequent career. It is unfortunate for his felicity, that sen- 
sibility, which enables him to enjoy pleasure with more zest, 
occasions him to feel pain with more acuteness ; and pain 
is too often the result of sensibility. He, who is gifted with 
genius, is often the victim of neglect and indigence, and, 
though rich in intellect, he may be poor in worldly possessions. 
He may revel in intellectual enjoyments — in "the feast of rea- 
son and the flow of soul" — and, yet, at the same time, be sub- 
jected to the most pressing immergencies. According to Dr. 

JOHSSO^f, 

" This mournful truth is ev'ry where confess'd, 
" Slow rises worth by poverty depress'd." 

Or with Juvekai, whom he imitated-,- 

"Of all the ills, we wretched mortals know, 
Sure poverty is charg'd the mo.-t <v ;,i >.-, . ; 
Tho' Nature with her noblest gift -••'- • 
If poor you 're doomed to poverty and scorn." 

As conduct is the effect of habit, so the eccentricities of ge- 
nius are the consequence of a studious or contemplative course 
of life. 

These observations, it is hoped, will not be considered irrel- 
evant; and it is thought that they are peculiarly applicable to 
the author of the following effusions, to which the publisher 
has given the title of " Columbia's Wreath." The author of 
this little volume has been known to the publisher for many 
years; and, as every intelligent reader is desirous of learning' 
something of the writer of a work which may afford him some 
amusement, the following particulars are submitted with due 
respect to the patrons, by the publisher. 



Mr. Noah Brasheahs is a native of Prince -George's county, 
Maryland, and is, at present, about thirty -five years of age. It 
was remarked by one of his early associates, that during his 
boyhood he manifested an uncommon predilection for books, 
and whilst engaged in mercantile business, he devoted his lei- 
sure hours to the perusal of the best authors. In the candour 
of truth the publisher feels constrained to say, that this love of 
learning, which gave to his friends a flattering indication of 
future advancement in society — through misfortunes, and 
consequent neglect — serves now, it is feared, by retrospection, 
to augment his sorrows, and to give a deeper tinge to that 
shade of melancholy which has settled on his mind. 

How painful must it be to recur to the delightful season of 
youth, that while revelling in all the felicities of hope, the ima- 
gination beheld through her bright vista, pleasures yet to 
come ! but alas ! how oft those reveries prove "a fleeting 
show for man's illusion given." With respect to the subject 
of these remarks, it would appear, hope had almost fled, 

" And like the baseless fabric of a vision, 

" Left" but " a -wreck behind." Shaks. 

Mr. B.'s education, though somewhat limited at school, be- 
ing subsequently improved by dint of application, he was 
thus enabled to assume to himself the important responsibili- 
ties of an instructor of youth. In that capacity, through his 
reputation as a man of letters, he made his debut as a teacher 
m St. Mary's County, Maryland, in May, 1821. During the 
usual vacation of schools here in the South, he beguiled 
his leisure hours by painting in verse the glowing creations of 
his imagination — a propensity, it will be seen, he evinced when 
nineteen years of age— during the war of 1812, which excited 
our poet's breast. In peace, the human intellect is in a tran- 
quil state 3 but War, with all her direful train, rouses up dor- 
mant faculties, and genius is developed. To use his owe. 
beautiful words, page 73, 

"Then men of mighty souls awake to light 
Who else had slumber'd in eternal night j 



For that proud spirit, which a genius forms, 

Is nurs'd on -whirlwinds, and expands in storms !'* 

During his stay at St. Mary's, in his own opinion, time passed 
pleasantly and merrily, but it is thought not always rationally 
away — alas ! too "merrily" for his own good.* Oh that men 
knew that Pleasure should follow, not precede Reason ! 

In St. Mary's, amid convivial associations, which tended to 
drown misfortunes, but for a short period, the habits of our 
poet, the publisher thinksj underwent some change ; and oc- 

* It is not the object of the publisher to cast censure on the peo~ 
pie generally of this section of Maryland : but by giving a succinct 
history of theeu, to account for certain. customs of conviviality that 
still prevail among a most friendly disposed community. The in- 
habitants of this point of land are a peculiar class. Those discor- 
dancies which, owing to heterogeneous associations, exist in many 
communities, it is generally believed, are unknown. to them. The 
soil which their ancestors owned is now their inheritance : they 
s.re sheltered by the trees which their forefatlsers planted. The first 
settlement of Maryland, (according to Ramsay.) was made in this 
county, on the 27th of March, 1 634, under a grant, cr by a charter 
from Charles I. of England. No acts of ecclesiastical ratoleranee 
nor sectarian bigotry, stained the annals of that infant cclonv : no 
quakers were hung, no witches burnt. The colonists gradually ad- 
vanced in the cultivation of the soil, and perfect harmony subsisted 
between them and the aborigines, until that extraordinary mar,. 
Cromwell, usurped the supreme power of England. It can rarely 
be out of place in a land of civil and religious liberty, particularly 
as Mr, Jeffeesox has said that in our country " there is an inauisi- 
tion in the minds of a portion of our people," to recur again* and 
again, to that part of our history as a nation, wherein Ramsay states : 
" Mankind heheld m Massachusetts, the Puritans abridging the 
" rights of various sects, and the church of England, in Virginia 
•'actuated by the same spirit, harrassing those who dissented from 
" the established religion; while the Roman Catholics -of Maryland. 
" tolerated-, and protected the professors of all denominations.'^ 
Under Cromwell's reign of fanaticism, dissentions, hitherto un- 
known, arose hi Maryland. A war of severs! years was prosecu- 
ted between the settlers ajid the natives-; and, at the instigation o£ 
one of the Protector's creatures, atrocities warn committed by the 
Indians on the colonists. 

A narrow portion of land , between two rivers, isolated and remote 
from any public route, contains a popidation celebrated for prime- 
val manners. Most of them profess the religion of their fathers— 
the Roman Catholic; and their professions are characterised by. 
■he ennobling qualities of charity and hospitality. 



casional aberrations from the path, of prudence were then 
made, which, perhap3, in a great degree, have influenced his 
subsequent life. 

■Sorrows, caused b} 7 misfortunes beyond our control, pecuni- 
ary difficulties, and the desertion of former friends in the dark 
hour of adversity, are too frequently, the cause of premature 
eiTor, and consequent misfortune. Many persons of this de- 
scription, at certain lucid intervals, manifest redeeming- traits ; 
and ennobling' qualities of mind, and goodness of heart, oc- 
casionally gleam through those mists of error, which, for a 
while, darken the human character. The germs of virtue 
early implanted, though surrounded by the tares of vice, 
may not be finally eradicated. Such occasionally feel some 
emotions of their first love : a lingering desire to approx- 
imate to that perfection which is co-existent alone with 
that Fountain of Light and purity whence the soul re- 
ceived its first inspiration. Although wandering in the ma- 
zes of error, the soul may yet aspire to more rational pleasures, 
instead of descending to the maddening- follies of the world ; 
3*et strange infatuation ! by some malevolent impulse, the same 
course of error is so frequently pursued! Ever aiming at the 
shrine of Virtue, fascinated with her charms, and venerating the 
sacredness of her character, if some men's occasional ap- 
proaches may have been nearer than those whose career has 
been more regular and prudential, yet their aberrations have 
been more erratic, and more distant. 

"Against the stream of Reason's light, 

Fate hurries them along, 
Forever aiming to be right. 

And yet forever wrong: 
Thus a mad comet hastening on, 

Wild through the sky it darts, 
Approaches nearest to the sun, 

And farthest then departs." Wood's obit. 

The preceding unassuming paragraphs, while they exhibit 
some particulars of the life of the author, it is hoped that they 
may serve as an admonition to young adventurers, the warmth of 



whose anticipations may induce them to make a wrong* estimate 
of the realities of life — to those who too often press forward with 
ardor: while the sun of Hope, beams upon their path, w T hich i g 
pleasant and bordered with flowers ; while the song- of Pleasure 
is heard in every grove 5 and the unsuspecting heart throbs 
with delight, in anticipation of future joys ; but O! vain hope! 
how oft is the .scene reversed ! the fairy vision, created by an 
ardent imagination, suddenly disappears, and leaves us in the 
midst of the wreck of our purposes. 

Some men are too apt to view mankind, as they feel them- 
selves — with those charitable sentiments which characterize 
an unsophisticated mind. But alas ! subsequent experience 
too oft wofully convinces them of the fallacy of their view^s 1 
They little think that one's company is frequently sought for 
others' gratification and amusement. They tardily, if ever, 
See, that selfishness and malignity, are, in too many instances, 
the predominant aims of the human heart. 

The publisher is well convinced of the correct intentions 
of the author of these poems. His goodness of heart is un- 
questionable ; but that he has acted indiscreetly, is not de- 
nied even by himself! Indiscretions, hurtful principally to 
himself, may be considered " the head and front of " his "offen- 
ding." 

The publisher is induced to believe that the severe lesson 
which our author has recently learned in the school of adver- 
sity, will be salutary in its effects ; and his friends anticipate 
the pleasure of seeing his poetical talents, which have ever 
been devoted to the cause of virtue and patriotism, appropri- 
ately rewarded. E~ 



COLUMBIA'S WHEATS 



MODERN TROY.* 

* E tuneful Maids, who erst, in happier times, 
Inspir'd a Settle's or a Blackmore'sf rhymes ; 
And whose sweet influence, in modern days, 
Has made a Northmore emulate their lays ; 
With your kind aid my humble efforts grace. 
To sing the glories of a certain place : 
Inspire no puerile lay, no trifling dream, 
But let my verse be lofty as my theme ! 

Where Anacostia rolls, in humble pride, 
His gentle current to Potomac's tide, 
Stands modern Ilion, on a rising ground, 
With walls encompass'd, and with turrets crown'd. 
Here hoary Priam± sits in regal state, 
And posted sentries guard the " Scsean gate ;" 
Here blust'ring Hector sways with dread control, 
And the sage Mentor keeps the monthly roll : 
With pleasing manners, and with graceful mien ? 
Here, too, the bold JEneas may be seen, 

* Navy Yard, City of Washington. 

f Settle and Blackmore flourished in the time of Dry den ; 
the first was a light dramatic writer, and the other a heavy 
epic poet. 

t The ** hoary Priam" is now dead, 
And " blust'ring Hector" reigns instead . — 1830. 
2 



14 

As the great offspring of the Queen of Love, 
With sacred timber* from the Idean grove, 
Constructed those immortal ships which bore 
His hardy vet'rans to the Latian shore, 
Behold him here with equal skill devise 
And rear his vessels, of stupendous size, 
Destin'd our country's glory to sustain, 
And bear her thunders o'er the raging main. 

See the lame Vulcan\ to his shop repair, 
Rouse every flame with " atmospheric air/* 
And see his swelling breast with fury rise, 
And rage vindictive flashing from his eyes ; 
From forge to forge the thund'ring oaths resound. 
The roofs re-echo and the vaults rebound ! 
The 'frighted Cyclops dread his flaming ire, 
And the black forgemen tremble and retire ; 
The youthful Anacostiat rears his head, 
Hears the dread sound, and seeks his oozy bed ; 
While old Potomac, list'ning from afar, 
Shrinks from the rumbling of the horrid jar ; 
Wafted by gales, the neighb'ring shore it fills* 
Then in faint echoes dies among the hills! 

Next see a motley and tumultuous throng, 
Whose names, if mentioned, would disgrace my song ; 
A Bacchanalian crew, whose only joys 
Are midnight revels and insipid noise : 
At evening's dusky hour, their labors o'er, 
When their stern masters^ can command no more, 

* According to Virgil, the mother of the gods gave .Slneas 
permission to cut the timber, with which he built his fleet, from 
the sacred groves on Mount Ida ; and when Turntis attempted 
to burn the ships, they were transformed into sea nymphs. 

f " King" of blacksmiths. 

* This idea is taken from the 232d stanza of Dryden's An- 
nus Mirabilis. 

§ "When their stern masters." This has allusion to three 



15 

All to the petty tippling shop repair, 

To spend their earnings, and dispel then' care. 

When copious draughts a foolish glee inspire, 

Warm then' dull brains, and wake their vulgar fire, 

Such is the jargon of the senseless crew, 

You'd think old Babel had commenced anew. 

The brutal riot o'er, and midnight past, 

The beastly husband staggers home at last, 

When to his view this mournful scene appears — 

A beggar'd wife and children all in tears ! 

Thus live a merry race, devoid of shame, 

Whom laws can't sway, nor preaching can reclaim ? 

And thus they pass then* precious time away, 

Dead drunk all night, and stupid all the day. 

O happy Ilion ! we behold at last, 
Thy present glory far transcend the past, 
No angry Juno meditates thy fall, 
No hostile legions hover round thy wall : 
But harmless duns thy peaceful sons invade 
With sad complaints of mim'rous bills unpaid. • 
No fierce Achilles thunders at thy gate, ■ 
With flaming falchion and relentless hate ; 
But gentler heroes gentler weapons wield, 
Their sword a warrant, and the law their shield : 
While each brave chief all former fame exceeds, 
And I've turned Homer to record then- deeds ! 

Washington, June 19, 1819. 

sons of Neptune, who preside over the destiny of modern Troy. 
They reside on Mount Olympus, but sometimes descend in 
their chariots to this lower region, to the great terror of the 
modern Trojans. 



16 

LINES ON THE FOURTH OF JULY, 1814. 
(composed at THE AGE 05 19.) 

Hail Liberty ! blest gift of Heaven to man, 
Through ages valued since the world began, 
Come, fire each breast on this auspicious day, 
And with thy spirit animate my lay. 
Let satirists boast the pure Horatian fire, 
And use Apollo's arrows or his lyre ; 
Such polish'd satires and such courtly rhymes 
Suit not the rage of these tumultuous times. 
'Tis mine to choose a more indignant strain, 
For rage, not wit, now agitates my brain ; 
For who can see, or who can calmly write, 
Our country's wrongs, nor madden at the sight ? 

"While sacred Peace yet wav'd her olive wand, 
Our rights protecting by her guardian hand — 
Those bights which treaties had in vain secur'd, 
Ere lingering Justice had unsheath'd the sword ; 
Like some bold robber at the midnight hour, 
With ruffian violence and lawless power, 
Then did perfidious Britain dare to seize 
Our tars, and rob our commerce on the seas .; 
Then sent her secret emissahy* forth, 
Leagu'd with base traitors of the East and North ; 
Then arm'd the ruthless savage of the wood, 
And wild Wabash still reddens with our blood ! 
Now heaven-born Peace salutes our ears no more, 
But hostile armies throng around our shore ; 
And nought is heard but discord's dire alarms— . 
The roar of cannon, and the clang of arms ! 

* John Henry, of infamous notoriety, then employed by the 
.British Ministry to dismember our Union. 



17 



Behold the Indian, Negro, and the Turk 3 
Unite their forces in the murd'rous work — 
While traitors in the savage compact join^ 
And Britain glories in the fell design: 
And see that ruffian, desolating host— 
Those hungry thieves that ravage all the coast I 
Led by that mighty chief, renown'd in arms, 
That bold invader of defenceless farms ; 
The plunder'd hen-roost and the captur'd stye 
Mark his career of blood and victory ; 
And, like La Mancha's celebrated knight, 
On barns and windmills he displays his might ; 
Whole herds of cattle to his prowess yield,. 
And slaughter'd sheep and poultry strew the field ! 
While to his flag his Negro friends repair, 
His black associates and allies in war. 
Such predatory deeds have rais'd his name, 
And Cockburn emulates a robber's fame I 
Why, with this wretch, O Muse ! pollute thy rhymes 
He would disgrace a gibbet with his crimes : 
Still, at the head of his ragamuffin crew, 
Leave him his paltry triumphs to pursue, 
The vile incend'ry dares not leave the shore, 
Unless some traitor opes the friendly door : 
Recreants ! to neither God nor country true, 
The deepest wound has been receiv'd from you: 

By all the former woes our country bore, 
Her present wrongs, and desolated shore ,- 
Her slaughter'd sons, her captive seamen's groans % 
By Erie's border, whiten'd o'er with bones, 
By British cruelty, and British hate, 
By Raisin's murders, and by Hampton's fate-=^ 
Bise, injur'd countrymen ! to battte go.. 
And hurl swift retribution on the foe \ 
2* 



18 

ODE TO LIBERTY. 

[For the Anniversary of American Independence, Jvly 4, 1818.1 

O Liberty ! whose parent sway 

These happy States obey : 

Thou who did'st rule in ancient times. 

The Greek and Roman climes, 

And, from the realms of Europe hurl'd, 

Has fixed thy empire in the western world; 
With joy we hail th' auspicious day again, 
Which adds another year unto thy brilliant reign: 
Propitious now my lay inspire. 
And every bosom fill with patriotic fire. 

When Britain first, our country to enchain, 
Sent her stern mandates o'er the western main ; 
And, to enforce her proud commands, 
Pour'd forth her mercenary bands ; 
*Twas then our glorious sires, with joyful eyes, 
Beheld thee hov'ring in the western skies, 
With patriot heart and dauntless breast, 
They rush'd to war at thy behest ; 
Expell'd those proud invaders from the land, 
And snatch'd their country from a despot's hand 
And as the young Alcides slew 

Those hissing foes by envious Juno sent, 
Thus did our infant state subdue 

Britain's proud hosts, on her destruction bent, ' 
Peace spread her blessings o'er the land, 

And bade the rage of discord cease ; 
While, foster'd by thy guardian hand, 

Our youthful empire did in strength increase. 
Neglected Ceres now resum'd her reign, 
And Commerce spread her sail again 5 



19 



And like another age of gold, 
The happy years in bright succession roll'd. 
But Britain with a jealous eye 
Beheld our glorious destiny : 
Again she sought to manifest 
The hate which rankled in her breast ; 
And, on aggressive acts resolv'd, 
Again the bands of amity dissolv'd. 
Alone the tyrant of the waves she reign'd, 
No treaties bound her, and no faith restraint ; 
By lawless force our gallant tars impress'd, 
Our flag insulted, and our trade distress'd. 

The reign of discord now began, 
Cries of resentment through the nation ran-; 
While comets, blazing from afar — 
A fatal prelude to approaching war : 
When our illustrious Chief arose ! 
Regardless of the malice of his foes, 
T' unsheath the sword he boldly dar'd, 
And 'gainst unrighteous foes, a righteous war declare 

Now on our coast the doubtful contest burns. 
With fury rages, and subsides by turns — 
Again our guardian Goddess cleav'd the air, 
On rapid pinions, and survey'd the war : 
Nerv'd ev'ry arm, and ev'ry bosom fir'd— 
While hostile legions from the field retired : 
Britain, compelled to terms of peace, once more 
Withdrew her fleets and armies from our shore. 

Thus met the foes of Liberty their doom, 
When ancient Carthage was subdued by Rome. 
Batavia thus, her freedom to maintain, 
Oppos'd the armies of despotic Spain. 

When now the glooms of war were past g 
And banish' d peace return'd at last, 



20 



The illustrious Madison withdrew 

From his exalted seat ; 
To public scenes he bade adieu. 

To enjoy his calm retreat- 
Called by his country to the Chair of State, 
To guard her freedom and direct her fate, 
Behold Monroe his glorious course pursue, 
A patriot, statesman, and a soldier too : 
Before his face mad Faction takes her flight, 
And jarring parties in his cause unite ; 
Beneath his sway see useful arts expand, 
While peace and plenty crown our happy land. 

From these blest scenes, the Goddess turns her eyes 
To southern climes, where new republics rise — 
Where her bold sons, a patriot train, 
Have burst an unrelenting tyrant's chain. 
With souls as ardent as their clime, 
With genius as their mounts sublime, 
And with invention fertile as their soil, 
And courage adequate to every toil ; 
They rush impetuous to the field — 
To their victorious arms, Iberia's legions yield. 
O Time ! roll on the auspicious day 
That wrests their country from despotic sway, 
And, Liberty, extend thy happy states 
From Darien's Isthmus to Magellan's Straits ! 

Advance, bright Seraph, in thy glorious course ! 
Let haughty despots from their thrones be hurl'd ; 

Subdue the nations with resistless force, 
And sway thy peaceful sceptre o'er the world. 



21 



A-REPLY TO CERTAIN WRITERS, 
" Qui capit ille facit." 
No settled character becomes the muse , 
She charms alike in variegated hues : 
Oft she a bright angelic nymph appears, 
And heav'nly music vibrates in our ears : 
When as a languishing and love-sick maid, 
Reclining pensive in the myrtle shade, 
In moving strains she tells her piteous tale, 
And sighs in concert with the gentle gale. 
Behold her next in warlike terrors clad, 
As furies fierce, or as Bellona mad, 
With Gorgon helmet gleaming from afar, 
Like stern Minerva rushing on to war ! 
Next as an angry governess she stands, 
And holds the rods of satire in her hands ; 
Then with what arbitrary sway she rules — 
The scourge of rascals, and the dread of fools ! 

Inspir'd by her, I boldly seize my pen, 
Regardless of the rage of little men. 
Come all ye wrangling, senseless, scribbling crew 3 
I long to combat with such things as you : 
Ye buzzing insects of a summer's day, 
That glitter for awhile, then pass away, 
And to oblivion's darkness hasten on, 
Your works forgotten, and yourselves unknown ; 
Arm'd with the pen, I boldly dare you on : 
Scan public acts, let private faults alone. 
And when you write, respectful language use. 
Or dread the wrath of my indignant muse. 
If wantonly you deviate from tins plan, 
Forget the writer, and asperse the man, 
By the stern muse of satire, I declare 
I'll rise in vengeance, and in pieces tear 



22 

The flimsy veil wliich hides from public view 
Wretches so infamous and base as you : 
Expos'd as victims of satiric rhymes, 
And marks of infamy to future times. 

Washington, May 19, 1819. 

The preceding 1 piece alludes to an infamous attack made up- 
on the author, in a scurrilous paper printed at Philadelphia. 



TO THE MEMORY 

OF THE LATE 

COMMODORE STEPHEN DECATUR 

IRREGULAR ODE. 

Methought I stood on Kalorama's height, 
Reclining 1 , pensive on Decatur's tomb, 
When, lo ! a form, serenely bright, 

Celestial glories beaming in her face, 
Descends* while floods of light the dreary place illume ! 
And thus address'd me, with a heav'nly grace: 
" Say, youthful bard, whose humble name 
Has never graced the rolls of Fame, 
What brought thee to this sacred place, 
And why the tear that trickles down thy face ? 
Say, hast thou sought these peaceful shades 
To woo the lov'd Aonian maids, 
Where, favor'd by the tuneful nine, 

His lyre great Barlow* strung, 
And with an energy divine, 
Immortal epics sung ? 

* It may be necessary to inform the reader, that Kalorama, 
where the remains of the lamented Decatur are deposited, 
was formerly the seat of Joel Barlow, Esq. and now be- 
longs to Col. Geo. Boiuforb. 



23 

Alas ! he sleeps upon a foreign shore — 
The Muses his sad fate deplore — 
His lyre, that once so sweetly breath'd, 
But now with mournful cypress wreath'd, 

Forever slumbers, and is heard no more: 
Yet, mortal ! know my name is Fame ; 
And to the world his merits I proclaim ! 
Or, still more pious, hast thou come 
To weep o'er brave Decatur's tomb ? 
• And dost thou shed the feeling tear 
O'er his remains that slumber here ? " 
' Tis true, said I ; I here deplore 
The Gallant Hero, now no more ; 
Who, like a youthful Hercules, 
Subdued relentless enemies ! 
And who, at a maturer age, 
Encounter'd Britain's hostile rage ; 
And dared with more than equal foes contend— 
While Victory and Fame his glorious course attend— 
And whose dread cannon shook Barbaria's shore, 
While Algiers trembled at the thund'ring roar. 
Alas ! he slumbers with the dead ; 

The light'ning of his eye is gone ! 
And cypress wreaths entwine around that head., 
Wherj Glory her bright halo shed; 
And darkness hovers o'er that face 
Which beam'd with ev'ry social grace — 
Where manly courage shone. 
Nor does the Muse alone 
Decatur's fate bemoan ; 
But floods of sympathetic tears are shed: 
Columbia mourns her Hero dead, 
With weeping eyes, and with dejected head ; 
And sable clouds of woe the nation overspread. 



Scarce had I ceased, when thus the power again: 

"No more indulge thy pensive strain, 

Thy grief is useless, and thy sorrows vain — 

Rise and behold his triumphs o'er the main ! V 
When on a craggy rock I stood, 

Which overhung the ocean-shore, 
Beheld the tumult of the flood, 

And heard the surges roar. 

I saw two warlike ships engage, 

With hostile fury and destructive, rage ; 

And heard the cannon's thund'ring roar 

Reverberate through rocks, and roll along the shore . 

'Mid clouds of smoke the starry flag was seen, 

Waving in triumph, o'er the dreadful scene, 

While, shining through the battle's storm, 

I saw the brave Decatur's form ! 
His arm, like lightning, dealt the fatal blow, 
And hurl'd Columbia's thunders on the foe ! 

The battle's din no more is heard— 

The scene of horror disappear'd: 
When, lo ! again my wondering eyes 
Saw Fame, bright goddess, glittering in the skies : 

I heard her golden trump resound 
With an immortal strain, 

While bursts of glory flash'd around, 
And brighten'd all the main: 
"Hear, mortal, hear ! the wonders thou hast seen, 
Give but a glimpse of his immortal fame ; 
I might display a more expanded scene, 
And with new honors grace Decatur's name ! '* 

Hark ! I hear a louder sound, 
Like peals of thunder, bursting on my ear: 

While all the list'ning nations round 

The fame of brave Decatur hear ! 



Starting with transport and delight, 
I ope my slumb'ring eyes— 

When, lo! from my enraptured sight. 
The glorious vision flies! 



DANDY HALL. 

"Know there are rhymes which, fresh and fresh applied, 
"Will cure the arrant'st puppy of his pride." — Pope 

Why does the free-born Muse adorn her rhymes 

With hacknied themes from European climes ; 

Why glean those wasted fields to gather bays, 

And sing of antique domes and deeds of other days? 

While here, expanding to our wondering eyes, 

Columbia's scenes magnificently rise ! 

Her wide extended plains, her boundless woods, 

Her tow'ring mountains and majestic floods 5 

While Architecture, too, her dome displays — 

Fit themes for epic verse, and legendary lays. 

As when redundant Mississippi pours 
His swelling waters and o'erwhelms the shores — 
When less'ning floods forsake the slipp'ry ground — 
What hateful monsters in the slime abound. 
And thus, O Washington! thy annual fate: 
A mighty influx from each neighboring state, 
Overflow thy spacious streets, and disappear, 
While vice and folly linger in the rear. 

Near to that dreary pestilential den, * 
Dreaded by rogues and shunn'd by honest men, 
A splendid edifice attracts the sight, 
Tor wonders fam'd, and Dandy-Hail 'tis hight 5 
Which whilom was a noisy festive dome, 
Where Bacchus kept his court, and drunkards found a hoiae. 

* Prison of the City of Washington. 
3 



26 

In all the mystic ceremonies skilFd, 
Somnolus here the priestly office fill'd — 
At Bacchus' shrine appointed to preside, 
And all his wild and frantic orgies guide : 
In truth, he was a rare unseemly wight, 
And noisy riot was his sole delight; 
Would nod his head with humorous grimace, 
With antic tricks and with buffooning grace. 
The livery 'd pensioners of Uncle Sam 
Here took their daily bread and morning dram: 
Those heroes of a summer's day parade, 
For tinsel honour'd, and for idling paid ; 
As if brass epaulets, or silver lace, 
Could give importance to a booby race ; 
Whose only merit, and whose fame consist, 
In having their small names on army list. 
Distinguish'd for their pride and insolence, 
And destitute of courage as of sense ; 
Prone "to promote a duel or affray, 
From which they never fail to run away ; 
Fearful and timid in the field of Mars, 
But brave in Venus' or in Bacchus' wars. 
Say, Muse ! from whence arose this upstart race' ? 
They were the nuisance of their native place ; 
Till forced by debt and roguery from home, 
To Uncle Sam the needy spendthrifts come ; 
While he, (good natured soul!) the boon confers, 
And swells the number of his pensioners: 
Each gets a piece of parchment and a sword, 
And from a strolling vagrant struts a lord! 
Besides, these doughty heroes were combin'd 
With scoundrels, knaves, and fools, of every kind: 
Here bankrupts and insolvents would repair, 
With magic oath to pay the old arrear ; 



27 

And happily enjoy with Bacchus' sons 

A safe retreat from sheriffs and from duns. 

Hither would knaves and peculators hie, 

For private fraud and public robbery ; 

While rogue-attorneys would promote their aims, 

With vouchers forged, and with fictitious claims : 

While all pay homage to the god of wine, 

And in his mad tumultuous orgies join ; 

As Cybele's inebriated train, 

With dismal howlings on the Phrygian plain, 

'Frighted the trembling swains and herds around, 

While hills and forests echoed to the sound! 

Thus, in the solemn stillness of the night, 

This Bacchanalian crew, perform'd the rite 5 

With gaming, riot, and such vulgar joys. 

While slumb'ring neighbors startled at the noise! 

At length, a stern, indignant hero came, 

Severe his look, and Justice was his name ; 

Silenced the uproar of the beastly rout, 

And with their drunken priest, he turned them headlong out 

The din of revelry is heard no more 5 
The festive song the Bacchanalian roar, 
No more resound through the deserted hall — 
'Tis melancholy gloom, and dreary silence all: 
When lo ! a bright fantastic goddess came, 
Fair as Dian', and Fashion was her name 
A throng of dandies in her train advance, 
In all the pomp of insignificance : 
Thin airy shapes, that sport their time away, 
Like motes that glitter in the sunny ray. 
This insect tribe was governed by a drone — 
Superior to the rest Pomposo shone — 
Adorn' d with all accomplishments, but sense, 
With a far greater stock of impudence : 



2S 

His rightful sway the vassal crowd confess. 
To rule in fashion and preside in dress. 

On April first, (by dandies borne in mind,) 
When corsets were invented for mankind, 
The chief resolved to march in proud array, 
And pay due honors to the glorious day : 
When he to make his awful mandate known, 
Despatched his fav'rite Jack-ass through the town ; 
Whose brayings, so incessant and so loud, 
Proclaim his message to the dandy-crowd. 
The well-known voice they recognise, and all 
Obey the summons and attend the call: 
In hasty crowds to Dandy-Hall they ran, 
And, all united, form'd the pompous train! 
$Tow, having mounted a velocipede, 
The chief commands the pageant to proceed ; 
And, at the head of the advancing throng, 
With conscious dignity he mov'd along — 
When lo ! a whirlwind met him on the way 
With sudden fury and terrific sway — 
His high-crowned hat and waving locks of hair. 
First felt the whirling motion of the air : 
His narrow-waisted coat and gaudy cape. 
Next upward rose in horizontal shape! 

His corsets burst — his spacious pantaloons 

Became inflated, like two air balloons! 

The dandies now, with an affrighted stare, 

Beheld their leader soaring in the air! 

And while so swiftly through the air he flew, 

His figure lessen 5 d on the distant view j 

Resembling first a monkey or an ape* 

At length he dwindled to a wasp in shape, 

Until he urges his aerial flight 

Beyond the utmost bounds of human sight .• 



29 

Yet, as he flew, he left his coat behind, 
Stript from his shoulders by the raging wind }•' 
And, what is still more wonderful to tell, 
The dandy-coat on Jacky Stultus fell! 
When on the favored youth all turn'd their eyes*, 
And view'd the happy omen with surprise 5 
And the adoring crowd, with one accord, 
With loud huzzas, proclaim'd hirn future lord. 



THE PROGRESS OF LIBERTY. 

For the Anniversary of Washington's Birth Day, Feb- 
ruary 22, 1821. 

Jam redit et virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna. — Vihgii.. 
O ! could I strike the sweet resounding lyre 
With Virgil's judgment or with Homer's fire ; 
Could my muse equal Pindar's daring height, 
Or soar with Milton in his heav'nly flight— 
O Liberty! thy triumphs to proclaim, 
With the loud trumpet of eternal fame! 
And swifter than the vivid lightning, dart 
A voice of terror to the tyrant's heart. 

Whence this presumptuous race of titled things; 
This gorgeous train of Princes and of Kings — 
Usurpers — who have filled the world with crimes^ 
And sent their doctrines to succeeding times ? 

In the^dark age of Reason's infancy, 
The judgment fetter' d, and the fancy free, 
Were first devised those mad, ambitious schemes^ 
Those wretched dogmas, those distemper'd dreams, 
Impos'd upon mankind for right and law, 
By which proud tyrants kept the world in awe : 
Then did despotic kings and priests unite — ■ 
The horrid spectres of that gloomy night— 



30 

O'er prostrate nations sway'd with dread control, 
Oppress'd the body and condemn'd the soul. 
Hence they have tyranniz'd in ages past, 
Usurp 'd the present, and would claim the last. 
But lo! a bright Saturnian age rolls on, 
In all the glory of the mid-day sun! 
Dispelling, with its potent influence, 
Those mists of error that obscure the sense ; 
While titled pomp, the pride of little minds, 
Whose tinsel-glitter, the weak judgment blinds ; 
Its gaudy trappings, and its vain parade, 
Before regenerating radiance fade. 

For, now, eternal Liberty no more 
Confines her triumphs to Columbia's shore: 
To Europe's climes the conqu'ring Goddess flies, 
And claims again her long-deserted skies ; 
Invades the realms of Italy* and Spain, 
And proud Germania sends her hosts in vain. 
And may Britannia's sons reverse the scene, 
And hail in triumph the immortal queen J f 
No longer yield to arbitrary laws, 
But rise undaunted, and assert their cause! 
And will not Gallia lift her drooping head ? 
Must all her glory in the dust be laid ? 
Forbid it, Heaven ! May that detested clan 
Of tyrants, leagued against the rights of man- 
That vile conspiracy of Kings, combin'd 
To forge new fetters, and enslave mankind. 
Soon yield to Liberty's resistless sway, 
And her swift vengeance sweep them all away : 

* The tyranical attempt of Austria at this period, to ex- 
tinguish the kindling flame of liberty in Italy. 

f The trial of the Queen of England was pending whe* 
this piece was written,, but the allusion is to the * 'immortal 
queen" of Liberty. 



$1 

To Asia's climes, triumphant Goddess, haste— = 
To fertile countries, now a savage waste ; 
Where haughty Turks maintain despotic sway 
O'er those bright regions of the orient ray ; 
To western Afnc's rude Barbarian shore, 
Where the proud Ottoman, and cruel Moor, 
Still unmolested hold their horrid reign, 
And captives doom to servitude and pain: 
With the swift wings of vict'ry, hasten on, 
Till realms are free, and tyrants are undone I \ 

Hail honorid name ! to freedom ever dear, 
Which all succeeding ages will revere ; 
To whose superior greatness titles bow, 
And Monarchs blush to find themselves so low 
O Washington ! the Muse inscribes her lay 
In sweet remembrance to thy natal day. 
Alas ! how vain the task ! her humble lays 
Can add no ray to that effulgent blaze 
Of glory, that irradiates thy name, 
In the bright annals of immortal fame. 



ON AMERICAN POETRY. 

J Tis morning now, the mist no longer chills. 
Forsakes the marshes and the neighboring hills ; 
Now Sol displays his rays, and yon bright stream 
Glows with the radiance of his golden beam : 

Come, thy inspiring influence impart, 
Thou heav'nly visitantj that cheer' st my heart , 
O sacred Poesy ! where'er I stray, 
Though dark -vicissitudes perplex my way ; 
Whether o'er Appalachian cliffs I go, 
Or Alpine summits of eternal snow $ 
Or in these pleasing solitudes remain, 
Where broad Potomac laves the fertile plaia 



32 

Where rivers roll their tributary tides, 
And white-wing'd Commerce on the water glides : 
Still will my soul thy flow'ry themes pursue, 
Forever pleasing-, and forever new. 
Why sleeps Columbia's Muse in sloth supine ? 
Why droops the genius of our native clime ? 
Shall arts and trade alone their sway dispense, 
And fogs Boeotian cloud the op'ning sense ? 
While European bards the song supply, 
Beam from the east, and gild our western sky ; 
While Barlow's epic muse delights no more — - 
In silence slumb'ring on a foreign shore ; 
While Paine,* admir'd for elevated style, 
Who, like a blazing meteor, shone awhile ; 
Untimely lost in dark oblivion's shade, 
His laurels wither, and his honors fade ; 
And e'en Freneatj,-}- with happier genius born, 
Whom ev'ry muse and ev'ry grace adorn, 
Whose peerless wit with such effulgence shown, 
Is now neglected, and his verse unknown : 
Fated to breathe this unpoetic clime 
Where wit is nonsense, genius is a crime -, 
Where the dull notions of each plodding ass 
For solid sense and sterling wisdom pass ; 
Where silly fops and formal fools are known, 
And Dulness claims each blockhead for her own ; 
Where niggard souls deny the meed of praise, 
And cold neglect has wither'd all their bays. 

And since no kind Mecsenas deigns to save, 
And snatch expiring genius from the grave, - 
Why should the Muse to Greatness' shrine repair, 
To mix with sycophants and coxcombs there ? 

* R. Treat Paine, of Boston. 

f Philip Freneau, the veteran poet of the American Reve 
lution, 



33 



Why flatter fools in poetry or prose, 
Or offer incense to an Apis' nose ?* 
Far from the lofty mansions of the great. 
She seeks a refuge, and an humbler fate ; 
Leaves the gay scenes of bustle and parade, 
And courts the pleasures of the rural shade. 

St. Mary's county, Md. April 5, 1822, 



TO THE MEMORY 



MIDSHIPMAN JAMES R. WETHERILL, 

Who died of a malignant fever, on board of the United States* 
ship Peacock, during her passage from Havana to Hamptcn 
Roads. 

Tho' lost to friends, to country, and to fame, 
Ere glory's annals had enroll'd his name, 
And with his brave companions doom'd to sleep 
In the rough bosom of the stormy deep ; 
Tho' Art no monumental tribute raise, 
No trophied marble to record his praise ; 
O ! say, shall the remembrance of the brave 
Forever perish in oblivion's wave ? 
Will not the tributary Muse bestow 
Some mournful chaplet to adorn his brow ? 
In her sad strains his hapless fate rehearse, 
While sieved friendship consecrates the verse. 

* That kind of persons of whom Dr. Garth observes : 
" Who are gravely dull, insipidly serene, 
And carry all their wisdom in then- mien." 
Such persons usually exclaim, " O ! I never read poetry ;"' 
and to them I apply a passage from Shakspeare : 
" The man who hath no music in his soul 
Is fit for treason, stratagems, and spoils ; 
Let no such man be trusted." 



34 

What opening- virtues grac'd his youthful mind, 

The hero and the scholar were combin'd $ 

A glorious emulation, and so rare. 

That all might envy, tho' so few can share : 

Averse to foolish, overweening pride, 

So oft to vice and ignorance allied, 

Which swells the selfish and contracted mind 

Beyond the sphere for which it was design' d ; 

A generous spirit mark'd his short career, 

And rising greatness was implanted there. 

Ardent for fame, impatient to sustain 

Columbia's glory on the raging main, 

The young aspirant left his native shore, 

To which fate doom'd him to return no more ! 

Alas ! untimely lost, in youthful bloom, 

An early victim to a wat'ry tomb. 

Accept, lamented youth, this friendly lay, 
'Tis the last tribute that the Muse can pay ; 
One who but lately knew, but knew thee well, 
And bids thee now a long — a last farewell. 



ODE TO SPRING. 

What baleful fiend with dusky wings 
Broods unpropiticus o'er this gloomy hour ; 

Around her withering influence flings, 
While drooping nature sinks beneath her power ? 

From some drear cave or Stygian moor, 
Or from the stormy coast of Labrador ; 
On the dark pinions of the north-east borne, 
While everlasting mists surround her throne, 
She comes with haggard eyes and pallid facp, 
Her icy arms my shiv'ring limbs embrace : 
Through every vein the cold sensations roll 
Which chill the rapture that inspir'd my soul. 



Thou patron of the iEsculapian art, 
The lightning of whose radiant face, 
Struck dead the dark Cyclopean race, 
T' avenge the life-restoring god 
Untimely by their thunders slain : 

Friend of the drooping muse ! O Phcebus dart 
Thy golden arrows to the monster's heart ; 
And from thy cloudless skies descend, 
Thou bright antipode to this dark fiend, 
Thou keen north-west ! let healthful breezes blow 
From thy pure regions of eternal snow, 
And sweeping o'er our fog-benighted plain, 
Disperse afar the pestilential train 
Of gloomy clouds and vapours damp, 
That dim or quench our vital lamp. 

Now the bright Sun with heat-increasing ray, 
Has entered Taurus on his heavenly way, 
And now the am'rous Earth 
Unbinds her snowy zone, 
And gives her bosom to the g-enial Sun \ 
While waking from her wintry death, 
With roseate cheek and fragrant breath, 
Lo ! beauteous Spring starts from her teeming womb, 
Array'd in robes of vernal bloom, 

And with her sweet harmonious voice 
Bids ev'ry grove with melody rejoice. 
Now weeping April leaves the plain, 
While smiling May with all her train 

Of blooming flowers succeeds— 
Sweet Jlowers, whose virgin purity 
Doth shame us for our sinful deeds : 
And roses hang their lovely heads 
And blush for our depravitr. 



36 



There was a time when vernal scenes could charm. 
Ere fate's black clouds the spring of life o'ercast ; 
When youthful hope could every scene adorn ^ 
Ere disappointment the illusion broke ; 
From slumbers sweet with joyous heart I woke 
And hail'd with rapture every rising morn ; 

But now, a nervous train of fancied ills' 
The poet's dark imagination fills : 
A gloomy retrospect of sorrows past, 
And dread forbodings of impending harm. 



Dim to these eyes is Beauty's feeble ray ; 

She gives no rapture to the troubled mind : 
Her fleeting forms like shadows fade away, 

And leave ho lov'd ideal trace behind : 
Love's joyous morn is clouded o'er with care, 

"While grief's dull atmosphere and sorrow's show'r 
Have quench'd th' ethereal flame that linger'd there ; 

As the chill'd breast unconscious of her pow'r, 
Is cold as regions of the ice-bound zone, 
Which feel no influence from the distant Sun. 
Ye brainless fops ! ye triflers say ! 
Victims to love's tyrannic sway, 
What secret charm, what magic binds 
Your feeble and effeminated minds, 
And like a siren lures you to your doom 5 
Go, view the horrors of the yawning tomb, 
See loath'd corruption mould'ring there, 
And breathe the stench of its infected air ; 
Then tell me what is beauty's boasted bloom ! 
There is a love — but 'tis not of our sphere ; 
It bums not in our grosser atmosphere : 
And as the sparks of our terrestrial fire 
Amid the vapors of a cell expire ; 



So must our sensual mists be purged away, 
Ere the pure spirit can receive its ray ; 
Nor does it rack our minds with agony, 
While tossing on a fev'rish bed, 
With aching heart and bursting head, 
Sleepless all night we lie. 
This love is sweet tranquillity, 
E'en in the hour of dark mortality ; 
Soothes the last agony of parting breath, 
And lulls the spirit in the arms of death : 
Dispels the horrors of the yawning tomb, 
Bids loath* d corruption rise in beauty's bloom — 
Array'd in the robes of immortality. 
One, is an earthly wand'ring fire 
Rais'd from the bogs of low desire ; 
Leading our erring souls astray 
To worship idols form'd of clay ; 
The other, is a bright celestial flame, 
From yonder cloudless skies it came : 
Like Bethl'hem's star it glows with heav'nly ray, 
Guiding the pious heart before 
Th' Eternal's throne, to worship and adore. 
But from the poet's breast, that love is gone, 
And he is left, dark — comfortless — alone ! 
Whither, O ! whither hast thou fled ! 
Nymph of angelic purity ? 
Thou dear companion of my early days ; 
While to my fev'rish fancy is display 'd 
A grinning fiend that mocks me to my face 

For having turn'd her humble votary. 
On her grim countenance sits black despair, 
Her fiery eye -balls with distraction glare ; 
Her look is infamy— her tainting breath 
Is hot contagion, and her touch is death. 
4 



Like that wise man in song renown'd, 
Toss'd by the tempests of the midland main ; 
That while alluring sirens sung in vain, 
His yielding limbs unto the mast were bound, 
And his ears shut to the delusive strain ; 
Had I, O vice ! thy curst allurements spurn' d, 
From thy deceitful smiles indignant turn'd, 

And dash'd thy pois'nous cup untasted to the ground 5 
The immortal flame with brighter ray had glow'd, 
And life's red stream in purer currents flow'd — 
Quick'ning this sluggish soul — this languid frame ; 
Yet the last solace of the wretch I claim — 

Inspiring Hope ! the Muse invokes thee now I 
Come ! like a radiant star adorn 

This gloomy night of woe— 
Thou bright precursor to a happier morn. 

The preceding ode was penned during a succession of gloomy 
days in the latter part of the month of April last, under all that 
association of melancholy ideas, occasioned by a transient at- 
tack of the vernal ague. A change of those feelings, with the 
atmosphere which produced them, can account for the hiatus 
which appears in the ode. 

May, 1824. 

EPIGRAM ON TRIAL OF THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND, 

The pious Edward, of the Saxon line, 
To his espous'd Editha's charms divine, 
Preferred a life of abstinence and pray'r, 
And died a Saint, but died without an heir, 
Like him, the pious Monarch of our days, 
Who for stern virtue merits equal praise, 
Forsakes a lovely Queen, and lives alone. 
And e'en denies succession to his throne ; 
Perhaps, for self-denial and restraint 
A future age may canonize himl Saint ! 

Nov. 18201 



39 
LINES 

On the Celebration of the Anniversary of Freedom. 

The day was pleasant, for Columbia threw 

Light fleecy clouds o'er the ethereal blue, 

Lest ardent Sol, too eager in his gaze, 

Should scorch her children with his burning 1 rays , 

While sacred Freedom hover' d o'er the scene, 

And veil'd the glories of her awful mien, 

Conceal'd from human vision, to survey 

The chic honors of her natal day. 

She saw her votive sons, a num'rous train, 

In crowding ranks that cover'd all the plain ; 

While great Monroe the long procession led, 

And o'er the moving pomp a lustre shed. 

Hail glorious anniverse ! auspicious day 1 

Forever sacred in the poet's lay ; 

When empires, thrones, and diadems, and kings, 

T' oblivion pass on Time's untiring wings, 

Still future bards, and millions yet unborn, 

With joyous hearts will greet thy hallow'd morn. 

July 4, 1824, 



FANCY. 



Fancy's blazing star that flies 
Excursive through the boundless skies, 
'Till judgment's gravitating force 
Restrains her in her lawless course ; 
To reason's orbit then confines, 
Where with a steady light she shines, 
And heav'nly influence — 
Revolving in the sphere of eommon sense. 



40 



ON THE DEATH OF LORD BYRON. 

" Oh lyre divine ! what daring spirit 
" Wakes thee now ?" — Gray. 

Hb's gone ! and his spirit, no longer confin'd, 
To Empyrean has soar'd, on the ray of his mind : 
He's gone ; and his ashes repose in the tomb — ■ 
But the wreath of his glory forever will bloom. 

Alas ! to the tempest of passion a prey, 
_The flight of his genius but darken'd his way ; 
Tho' his mortal remains now repose in the tomb- 
Yet the wreath of his glory forever will bloom. 

His was not the beam of a temperate sky, 
But the gleam of the lightning that flash'd from on high 
Prom the clouds that enshrouded his spirit in gloom— - 
Yet the wreath of his glory forever will bloom. 

Peace, envious poets ! ye critics, be still, 
Nor against the dead Lion dare hit up the heel. 
To tarnish his laurels in vain ye presume, 
For the wreath of his glory forever will bloom. 

Tho' the notes of his lyre shall awaken no more, 
Yet his spirit, still awful, is hov'ring o'er : 
When your names will have sunk to oblivion's gloom. 
Still the wreath of his glory forever will bloom. 

Tho' his body now rests in the mouldering grave, 
His heart* is embalm' d by the tears of the brave ; 
The halo of ages his verse will illume, 
And the wreath of his glory forever will bloom. 

* His heart was embalmed by the Greeks, and preserved i 
an urn-. 



41 



ODE 



On visiting my native place, in the vicinity of the late Camp- 
Meeting, Prince George's county, Maryland. 

{( Scenes of my youth ! ye still to me are dear, 
** As thro' the veil of time thy charms appear." 

Watterstos^ 

Ere I repair to yonder throng, 
Where woods resound with heav'nly song 9 
Here let me rest awhile, and sigh 
Where my departed kindred lie . 
Here in this lonely burial place, 
Where tomb-stones lift their paly face 
Amid the darkening weeds, that shade 
The lowly dwelling of the dead : 
These silent scenes more eloquently preach 
Than the loud precepts that divines can teach. 
Yon dome, the work of mortal hands, 
To ruin sinks — a shattered frame ; 

Unchanged each scene of nature stands — 

Those hills, those fields, those streams the same, 
There my old friends, yon ancient trees, remain, 
On whom descending storms have burst in vain 4 

Lifting their aged arms on high f 

In scorn of human destiny. 

And e*en that well known gentle rill, 

That laves the foot of yonder wood-crown'd hiljj, 

Still glides along, as pure and clear 

As when its murmurs sooth'd my youthful ear. 

Sweet stream •! O i eould my troubled mind 

Serenely flow, as when reclin'd 

On thy green bank full many a day 

I mused, with boyish visions gay 3 

Smit with the forms that glanc'd in fancy's ray | 

But O ! what floods polluting roll, 

And stain the current of the Soul J 
4* 



42 

As from life's source it flows? 

Meand'ring thro' this vale of woes 

To dark futurity's unfathom'd sea-^- 

The shoreless ocean of eternity. 

Adieu, thou venerable dome ! 

So long- the poet's youthful home ; 

Ye well known hills ! ye tall majestic woods I 

Ye murm'ring streams ! ye pleasing- solitudes 

Farewell ! the Muse pursues a nobler theme— 

Arous'd from retrospection's fev'rish dream ; 

And Time, full oft shall flap his drowsy wing's, 

Ere of himself again the poet sings ; 

Thy name Fayette ! alone his mind shall fire, 

And from inglorious slumbers wake the lyre. 

August 9, 1824. 



ADDRESS TO GEN. LA FAYETTE 

On his approach to the Metropolis of the Union, 

** He comes ! he comes ! bid every bard prepare 
"The song of triumph, and attend his car." — Hartotrt 

Accept, great man ! the poet's votive lays 9 
And to thy laurels add his sprig of bays : 
O ! for a theme as boundless as thy fame, 
A subject worthy thine immortal name 4 
Vast as the debt of gratitude we owe, 
And lasting- as the wreath that -decks thy brow. 

As when refulgent Phoebus mounts on high^ 
His morning glory gilds the orient sky ; 
When from his radiant noon he sinks to rest, 
Emits his evening splendors from the west : 
Illustrious La Fayette ! thy bright career 
Illumin'd long the eastern hemisphere 4 
And now, thy glory, unobscur'd by time. 
Beams with effulgence on our western clime 1 



43 



When Slav'ry with her dark demoniac ban4 
Like night's black pinions, hover'd o'er the land j 
Then Freedom's sun, great Wash ixgtox, arose- 
Dispell'd the darkness and dispers'd his foes.; 
And when from life's horizon he had gone, 
His brave compatriots with his radiance shone 
But few, alas ! remain'd to cheer the eye, 
And setting stars had travell'd down the sky ; 
When in the east a brilliant orb appears ! 
The star of hope that calm'd Columbia's fears 4 
Which dawn'd auspicious on our infant state 
When brooding darkness hover'd o'er her fate ; 
That usher' d in the morn of slav'ry's night, 
And cheer' d a drooping nation with its light i 
Then in the heav'nly constellation shone 
A.round that solar orb, immortal Washington. 

Lo ! from her tow'ring height, Columbia bends 
Whose cloud-capt summit to the sky ascends \ 
Waits on the shore her Hero's glad return, 
With arms of teinsport to embrace her son ; 
When Ocean's god appears with all his train. 
And bowing, owns the Mistress of the Main | 
And now, obedient to her high command, 
Escorts the vet' ran Chieftain to the strand : 
There Freedom greets him, too, with heav'nly mie% 
And the proud eagle hovers o'er the scene ; 
There Fame*, with her resounding trumpet stands., 
And blows the pleasing news to distant lands ; 
While joyous millions gladden at the sound, 
Prom northern Maine to Louis'ana's bound ; 
With gratitude each patriot bosom glows, 
And shouts of " welcome ! " hail him as he goes 1 
Youth, manhood, age, all emulate his fame, 
Ind infancy is taught to lisp his name, 



44 

*«*Now let me go V s the aged vet'ran cries* 
While tears of gladness trickle from his eyes. 
*' Mine eyes have seen him, and I go in peace" — 
His cares are banish' d and his sorrows cease : 
To his forsaken heart new pleasures rush, 
And o'er his features spread a transient flush : 
Thus, setting suns in glory close the day, 
And wasting tapers flash a brighter ray. 

Nor to these shores his boundless soul confin'd— 
The constant friend of freedom and mankind ; 
His native Gallia own'd his guardian hand, 
When ruin threaten'd her devoted land ; 
When with the fate of realms her bosom rose^ 
He saw her struggles and convulsive throes — ■ 
When lo ! instead of heavenly Liberty, 
Appear'd the hideous monster Anarchy, 
When great JVapoleon, in imperial pride, 
Advanc'd to empire with gigantic stride ; 
When his right hand the palms of Asia bore^ 
The other grasping at Britannia's shore ; 
And on the warlike belt that bound his waist, 
The crowns of fallen monarchies were placed ■;■ 
While in the waters of the midland sea, 
Girt with the " boot and spur" of Italy, 
His foot was fix'd — while his triumphant brows 
Were crown'd with Norway's everlasting snows^j 
When proud defiance at mankind he hurl'd, 
And with a voice of thunder aw'd the world ! 
Bold as Ulysses in the giant's cave, 
Thy patriot arm was lifted still to save 
Thy country's freedom in her evil hour, 
Unaw'd by tyrants, and unbrib'd by power. 
And now when kings resume their former reign, 
The grim defender of their dark domain, 



4S 

That triple league* — that Cerberus accurst, 
By fear engender'd and by tyrants nurs'd, 
Opes his tremendous jaws, distain'd with gore 5 
And howls malignant to Columbia's shore ; 
With envious spite, beholds thy honors here, 
And bays thy Star of Glory from afar. 

Pillar of Freedom, hail ! thou corner stone ! 
Which Europe's foolish builders left alone ; 
Thou second column of our liberty, 
Whose arch, sustain'd by Washington and thee, 
Shines in the heavens, like th' ethereal bow ! 
A great memento to the world to show, 
Of God's eternal promise made to man, 
When worlds were finish' d, and when time began. 
Above this arch, lo ! Freedom's glorious orb 
Begins to shine on this revolving globe, 
Dispersing far the shades of error's night, 
And slumb'ring nations waken in the light ; 
While young republics gladden m its ray, 
Where Sol in Capricorn pursues his way : 
Benighted Europe hails it from afar, 
And her crown'd despots scent the morning air. 
Lo, Greece awakes ! her awful form appears, 
Rous'd from the slumber of inglorious years 4 
Now on Thermopylae's fam'd strait she stands, 
And fires with vengeance, her heroic bands ! 
Rise, ye brave Greeks, and burst the tyrant's chain ! 
Rise ! rise ye Greeks ! be free; — be great again : 
Proceed in liberty's resplendent light, 
Till the pale crescent of the Moslem's night 
Shall fade — till Tyranny's dark reign be o'er. 
And her proud empire sinks to rise no more \ 

* Holy Ailiaacs.- 



46 

Where lately dark uncultur'd forests grew, 
Our youthful city rises to thy view 5 
Bearing the name of thy departed friend — 
Heceive the welcome that her children send : 
With shouts of joy they hail thee to their home, 
Where Freedom rears her ever-during dome. * 
No more Potomac rolls his tide along, 
Unknown to glory and unknown to song. 
For thy lov'd Washington's immortal name 
Has crown'd his borders with eternal fame : 
And on whose shore, admiring nations see 
The seat of empire gain'd by him and thee. 

Washington, Oct 12, 1824. 



ON ELOQUENCE. 

As when through air the electric fluid spreads, 
A thund'ring peal the vivid flash succeeds — 
Thus bright ideas, flashing on the sense, 
Produce the pleasing sounds of eloquence. 



EPITAPH ON THOMAS AND WILLIAM HALIDAY.f 

One destiny these youthful brothers sway'd, 
The same their fortune and the same their trader 
One vessel bore them o'er the briny tide? 
They lived together, and together died: 

* The Capitol. 

-f- This epitaph was composed at the suggestion of my old 
and valued friend, Thomas Haliday, of the Navy Yard of 
this city. The young gentlemen, whose early and coinci- 
dent exit, is here commemorated, were his relatives ; and, at 
the time of their decease, but recently from Ireland. Mr. H. 
himself is now no morei I pause for an appropriate epitaph. 
Let Pope supply it: 

<s An honest man 's the noblest work of God.'* 



47 



One funeral hither brought their sad remains, 
And here one grave the hapless pair contains. 

Scorning- alike the tyrant and the slave, 
The youthful patriots ventured o'er the wave; 
And found, instead of tyranny at home, 
On Freedom's soil an honorable tomb. 

Washington, Oct. 1824. 

A FRAGMENT, 

* * * * I saw a man, 
In gloominess of spirit where he sat— 
His heavy beamless eyes, of yellow hue, 
Were fix'd upon the earth, as if he sought 
A place to rest his languid fev'rish frame ; 
And on his downcast joyless countenance, 
Sallow disease sat in grim sullenness — 
His words were few; but bitter as the gall 
That clings about his sad desponding breast. 
I spoke not to him ; but I felt the more ; 
And if kind pity ever touch'd my heart, 
Poor sorrowing mortal! I do pity thee. 
Ye heav'nly powers! ye ministers of health! 
Some cheering cordial to Ins soul impart ; 
O ! let life's pure ensanguin'd current flow, 
Tinge his wan cheek, and animate his frame. 

October If. 



SATIRE NO. I. 

I'll write, or perish in the glorious cause ; 

Hear it, and tremble, ye who 'scape the laws! — Pons. 

TO SLANDERERg. 

O muse of satire ! come with rod in hand, 
And lash each paltry villain round the land ; 
Thou dread and terror of the knave and fool, 
Hold meanness up to public ridicule! 



4S 

And oh! describe with thy satiric pen, 
Those fiend-like monsters in the shape of men, 
Whose shallow minds can nothing understand, 
But vending" petty slander round the land ; 
"Which furnish topics, and supply defects 
Of a poor brain, and feeble intellects. 

In some dark cave, amid a dreary wood, 
Resides the mother of their hateful brood, 
From whence abroad, a vip'rous race they sprung, 
Guilt in each heart, and venom on each tongue: 
Wide o'er the world, in baleful swarms they go, 
And gain more rancour as in age they grow ; 
Thro' the sweet bowers of innocence they pass, 
Like hateful vipers creeping thro' the grass ; 
Whose serpent whispers circulate around, 
While reputation feels the deadly wound. 

Miscreants beware! you to the muse are known, 
And this dark character is all your own. 

November 4. 



SATIRE NO. II. 



The muse's office was by heaven design'd 

Te please, improve, instruct, reform, mankind. 

Churchill. 

Alas ! our summer days are gone, 
And wint'ry clouds are hast'ning on ; 
While in the mournful breeze we hear 
The groans of the departing year ; 
And in the shatter'd forest see 
Sad emblems of Mortality ; 
Whose honors on the ground are cast, 
Scatter'd by the autumnal blast. 

By gentle Anacostia's side, 
Crown'd with Columbia's naval pride, 



49 

The bard pursues his pensive way, 
While Sol in glory leaves the day: 
Refulgent now his setting beam 
With radiance gilds the tranquil stream j 
The hills with sombrous forests crown'd, 
Their length'ning shadows cast around ; 
While martial music's solemn notes, 
From where yon starry banner floats, 
The sounding drum, the chiming bell, 
The toilsome day's departing knell j 
The distant hum the zephyrs bear $ 
All softly stealing on his ear ; 
Rule every sense with sweet control. 
And heav'nly harmony of soul. 

When all the cares of day are o'er, 
How sweet to tread this silent shore $ 
No objects here disturb my spleen ; 
Nor Shylock's hated face is seen ; 
His churlish look, his frown austere, 
His haughty, supercilious sneer: 
Whose villain blood did ne'er impart 
One throb of rapture to his heart: 
And, in whose dark, malignant face, 
Each brutal passion we may trace : 
From whose deceitful, envious eye, 
Flash falsehood, guile, and treachery: 
Whose guilty, callous breast conceals 
A little soul that never feels ; 
Who never owns, nor serves a friend, 
Unless to gain some selfish end: 
Whose mind is dark as midnight's shade, 

Where learning's rays can ne'er pervade, 
All the black passions of his breast — 

Cease, Muse ! and fancy all the rest, 



50 



Away! thou sad, distressing theme! 
No more molest the wand'rer's dream, 
No more disturb this tranquil hour, 
Now sacred to the Muse's power. 
''Tis gone! and pleas'd, I hear once more 
The ripple murmuring' on the shore ; 
Gaze on the beauty of the sky, 
And feel the breeze that wanders by. 

Bright stream ! when thou shalt roll along, 
The theme of many a poet's song; 
Like silver Thames, when thou shalt glide. 
With domes majestic by thy side ; 
Is it the humble poet's lot 
To be neglected and forgot, 
Who first thy rural beauties sung, 
While yet thy Washington* was youag? 

November, 1824 



SATIRE NO. in. 

Tv all whom it may concern. 

Some have for wits, and e'en for poets past, 

Turn'd critics next, and prov'd plain fools at last. — Poj»e. 

Well! what if Timon has abus'd my verse? 

I heed not Timon's blessing nor his curse : 

Should all his snarling brotherhood at once, 

Condemn my poems, and pronounce me dunce : 

I scorn to notice what they say or do— 

I keep no pen for that illiterate crew: 

Nor does it one indignant glow excite, 

That fools like they should censure what I write. 

Peace! driv'llers then : and O! renounce for shame 3 

Your poor pretensions to the critic's name ; 

Go, join the grov'ling money-making crowd, 

Be gravely dull and ignorantly proud ; 

* Alluding to the city. 



51 

Assume wise looks of formal consequence, 
And let your silence be your claim to sense: 
Be any thing- but critics, you may thrive, 
For ev'ry idiot has a way to live. 

Thou worse than Goth, whose sacrilegious hand, 
Would mar those lines thou canst not understand; 
Nay, worse than all, asperse the poet's fame, 
Hang down thy silly head, and blush for shame ; 
Dare not again assume the critic*s part, 
Or I will lash thee, trifling- as thou art ; 
For "I am doubly arm'd" — I wield at once 
A pen and rod for critic and for dunce* 

Washington, 1824. 

LINES 
On the Visit of General La Fayette to the Tomb of Washington* 

But few were the friends that the hero attended, 
When silent and slow to the tomb he descended: 
And holy the calm that pervaded the place, 
And sacred the tear on his time-stricken face. 

The reverend old oaks that the sepulchre shade, 
In the mellowed lustre of autumn array' d, 
Rich and ripe, like his autumnal honors appearM - 
While the mournful vibrations of music were heard, 
And the pealing- artillery's measurM sound, 
Awaking- the echoes of Vernon around. 

J Tis done ! the last scene of the drama is o'er, 
And the pilgrim who visits this hallowed shore, 
Will bend o'er the tomb, while it laurels are wet, 
With the tears of the great and the good La Fayette, 

November 13, 1824 

* This effusion is intended as a paraphrase of the conclu- 
ding part of that interesting and affecting account of La Fay- 
ette's visit to the tomb of Washington, which appeared «r- 
riginally in the Intellingencer some years since^ 



52 



©N AN OLB COAT, ACCIDENTALLY TORN IN A 
REVEL. 

Our passions gone, and Reason on her throne, 

Amaz'd we see the mischiefs we have done: 

After a tempest, when the winds are laid 

The calm sea wonders at the wrecks it made. — Walleb. 

Thou reverend grave old coat! 
Whether in pedant's chair thou claim'dst respect ; 
Or, in my solitary musing- walk, 
Close button' d, thou didst wrap this mortal frame, 
While the immortal mind was wrapt in thought ; 
Though Time has dimm'd the lustre of thy hue, 
And worn thy tissue bare ; yet thee I priz'd : 
But now, thou art dishonour' d, for thou show'st 
A gaping mouth, which grins like Infamy ; 
That speaks aloud of frightful revelling nights, 
Of bitter morns, whose blushing dawn o'ercast 
With Sorrow's sombrous clouds, from whence descendsy 
The briny torrent of repentant tears. 

While thus I mus'd, Hope whisperM in my ear, 
4 'This trivial rent, a tailor might repair." 
Perish the thought! thou fraction of a man ! 
Say, canst thou mend the breach in Virtue's robe, 
Or in the spotless vest of Innocence ? 
O ! would thou could'st, then would I haste to thee 
.No ! Reputation is a flimsy garb, 
Which no one now, but he who wears it, mends 4 
And he, alas! unmindful of its fate, 
Walks blindly 'mid the thorae of error's maze, 
Till it is torn to tatters. 

November, 1*24* 



53 

On seeing General La Fayette at the Theatre in company with 
President Monboe. 

O Muse! suspend thy quiv'ring dart awhile, 
Already aim'd at guilty Timon's breast ; 
Leave Shylock, and his long-eared brotherhood 
Awhile unsung, uncensur'd, and unknown : 
While love ones more satiric rage disarms, 
And the lyre trembles with thy fav'rite theme. 

The festoon'd columns, and each laurell'd arch,. 
With trophied flags adorn'd: the glorious spoils 
Of vanquish'd nations, now delight no more ; 
In vain the painter's skill, the actor's grace, 
Impart new brilliance to the mimic scenes. 
All eyes are fix'd upon that sacred face > 
And on-that venerable man who sits 
Beside, who his subaltern was, but now, 
The chosen ruler of our western world! 
Illustrious men! who drew their youthful swords 
In the same field, in freedom's sacred cause 
Both bled — and now, both honor'd in their age^ 
One sways the nation's helm, and both our hearts^ 
The nation's ruler that, and this, her guest. 
The "Aafiore's Guest/" 'tis an electric sound, 
At which the throbbing hearts of millions thrill, 
O'er these fair climes where heav'nly Freedom reigns. 

Washington, December 13, 1824 

LINES 

On the Inundation of St. Petersburgh 
Ectiiope ! thy northern climes have felt the rage 
Of angry winds ^ and the proud Autocrat, 
Who tramples on thy subjugated realms, 
And throws his icy arms around thy zone. 
Already trembles for his capital, : 
5* 



m 

Whose lofty spires overlook the rushing flood. 

Lo ! from Britannia's distant shore, the storm 
Tremendous rolls, with desolating force, 
Swelling the Northern ocean to the sky ; 
Sweden beholds her forests hurl'd in air, 
And her proud cities shatter'd at a blast ; 
The aargry Baltic pours his swelling flood 
On Finland's gulf, and overwhelms his shores- 
Mingling his waters with Ladoga's lake 5 
The gentle Neva, gentle now no more, 
Rolls with tempestuous billows not his own, 
While mighty fleets, which long had safely rode 
On the rude surges of the stormy main, 
Are toss'd about like feathers on the breeze., 
The prey of warring elements $ or dash'd 
To atoms in the black engulfing wave ! 

Ye insect race of Kings ! where are ye now ? 
When the strong arm of angry Heaven is bared ; 
When His dread voice to guilty nations speaks ; 
In roaring storms, that desolate the earth, 
And heave the rolling ocean to the skies : 
Where are ye now ? poor feeble mortals, say ! 
Who weave your cobweb theories of law, 
To subjugate weak mortals, like yourselves. 

Washington, Feb. 1, 182& 



THE PRISON.— A FRAGMENT. 

*' I stood in Venice on the bridge of Sighs, 

" A palace and a prison on each hand."-— Btros. 

***** 'TwAg a gloomy night ^ 
And awful silence brooded all around ; 
And naught disturbed it but the weary 7 steps 
Of sBme lone straggler hastening to repose 4 



SB 

And naught was seen but distant waning- lamps 

Which feebly glimmer'd 'mid surrounding gloom : 

And the bright star of ev'ning, in the west, 

Beaming serenely on the murky scene : 

The other stars had clos'd their eyes, while she 

With nightly vigil watch' d our slumb'ring world. 

Yet I was wandering — I knew not whither, 

And car'd not ; till the black and sullen Walls 

Of our dark prison frown'd upon my sight ; 

While on the other hand, our city's Hall 

Threw its gigantic shadow 'mid the glooim 

Then, too, I saw that ignominious post. 

As if amid its desolation, stand 

A shameful monument of our disgrace, 9 

Of human degradation ; which so oft 

Has been embraced by agonizing arms ; 

While the bared back receiv'd the legal lash. 

! then I felt — My vagrant thoughts return'd ^ 
While mem'ry flew to those dark feudal times. 
Whose hateful relics then before me stood. 

I look'd toward the prison — It seem'd dark 
And silent all ; and yet methought I saw 
By the pale taper that illum'd his cell, 
A debtor to some grov'lling, churlish wretch, 
"Reposing on his bed of rags and straw ; 
Pale and emaciated was his face, 
And 'mid the stench and vapors of the room,* 

1 heard his breathings — they were deep and loftg^ 
And he did mutter something in his sleep 
About his absent wife and little ones 5 

In words of tenderness he spoke to them, 

* Since the above was written, our prison has undergone a 
thorough repair, and the situation of debtors rendered compar- 
atively comfortable*, 



m 



Tho' they were ail away. A smile of joy 
Play'd o'er his haggard features — he awoke— 
And grim despair resum'd its settled gloom : 
Here did my musing end, my vision fled— 
And the dark walls seem'd darker than before, 

I look'd toward the stately edifice, 
Where awful Astrea holds her solemn reigg $ 
Where noisy Law pursues his mazy way, 
Confounding truth and error in the search, 
And I did sigh to think those walls contain'd 
A single remnant of barbaiic times. 

Washington, April 5, 1825. 



ON SPRING— ADDRESSED TO YOUTH, 

The sun is up — the morn serenely smiles, 
And bright'ning skies inspire the rural lay : 
O'er flow'ry plains, and o'er enamelled meads, 
Where fragrant blossoms bloom along the way, 
I love to wander ; or 'mid vernal woods, 
By the green margin of pellucid streams, 
Where murm'ring waters sooth the list'ning ear,, 
And birds melodious sing among the trees ; 
Well pleas' d, I moralize upon a scene 
Which Nature's glowing pencil has pourtray'd, 

Pure as the early dew that gems the rose, 
In May's bright morn, and glitters in the sun, 
Is the sweet tear of penitence that wets 
The cheek of blooming youth ^ and sweeter far 
Than all the fragrance of that beauteous flower, 
Are the soft breathings of his pious soul ; 
And far more glorious than the brightest morn, 
Whose orient splendors gild the lovely spring, 
Is the delightful sight — a virtuous youth, 
Whose morn is brighten'd by fche smiles of Hea*ei>; 



57 



Whose heart is soften'd by refreshing dews 
Of heav'nly love, which, like the genial earthj 
Enrich'd by fertilizing showers, yields 
The early promise of his future worth. 

And, much I love to look upon that youth, 
Whose generous breast with every virtue fired, 
Glows with the love of learning and of truth ; 
How sweet the task I O, be it ever mine, 
Amid the nursery of future men. 
To watch his dawning greatness, and observe 
The rays of science beaming in his mind : 
In him to see his country's glory shine, 
With faint, auspicious gleamings ; and to mark 
The embryo statesman in the blushing boy 5 
And, in the modest unassuming youth, 
The future friend and guardian of mankind. 
Blest was the hour that gave his being birth : 
Blest the pure fount prest by his infant lips ; 
Blest is the sire of so belov'd a son — 
His locks are bright with honor ^ and they bloom 
With hope and joy immortal, and the sun 
Of gladness shines upon his ev'ning days. 
Alas ! that such a youth should every stray 4 
That he should wander in the ways of sin 4 
That vice should dim the lustre of his eyes, 
And blanch his blooming cheek of innocence : 
That he should still pursue the wild'ring maze, 
*Till the dark ocean of eternity 
Heaves its black, frightful wave, with sudden swell, 
And sweeps him from this sublunary shore, 
Fearful and trembling, to a world unknown ! 
O ! I have known — I still know what it is, 
To walk this dang'rous road. And though the crowds 
With num'rous footsteps, tread it ev'n and wide 5 
Though on its borders bloom enchanting bowers, 



58 

Where warbling pleasures sooth the ravish'd sense 

With siren song's ; and where delightful fruit, 

In tempting clusters, hang upon the trees j 

To me 'tis frightful as the howling waste, 

Where the grim monsters of destruction prowl ! 

But, where is he P* my young, ingenuous friend, 

Oft my companion of the moonlight walk ; 

'Mid rural scenes, where darkening cedars grew, 

And branching oaks o'ercanopied the way ; 

Where wand'ring moon-beams glimmer'd through the trees— 

Scattered the path with glory ! and the grove 

With silv'ry light bespangled ; or o'er plains, 

Where Cynthia, with unshadow'd brightness shone, 

And pourM her splendor on the distant flood $ 

Oft have we past the pleasing, solemn hour, 

In friendly converse, or in pensive thought ; 

Or listen'd to the plaintive whip-poor-will ; 

Which from some aged poplar's lofty bough, 

Awoke the echoes of the silent woods. 

Those woods, alas ! no more will he behold ! 

When last they bloom' d, health g-low'd upon his cheek t 

They bloom again — he moulders in the dust 5 

Nature awakes in spring's reviving morn \ 

But death's long slumber seals his heavy eyes : 

Again the grove's wild melody is heard, 

The sky is bright, the gentle breezes blow ; 

But silent is the mansion of the dead ; 

No ray can pierce the darkness of the tomb, 

Nor zephyr wake the awful stillness there. 

A winter snow has white n'd o'er his grave $ 

* N. Cassidy, Jun. a youth of excellent attainments and ami- 
able disposition, who accompanied the author, in the capacity 
of assistant teacher, to St. Mary's county, Md. in the year, 1822, 
He there died lamented by aU who knew him, 



But yet unchill'd is Friendship's ardent breast : 
The sorrowing' muse a cypress wreath entwines ; 
While springes young- blossoms deck the hallow'd sod, 
Emblem of him who calmly rests beneath. 

Mysterious Providence ! how dark thy ways ! 
Inexplicable all 10 mortal ken : 
How many worthless beings yet remain, 
Who like the foul and loathsome charnel house, 
Still breathe their pestilential airs around ; 
While nipp'd untimely by the hand of Death, 
The fragrant flowers of youth and future hope, 
Perfum'd with all the sweets of innocence, 
Fall to the dust, and wither in the tomb : 
Yet thou art just — and we adore the Power 
Who snatches early virtue to the skies, 
Ere vice hath fix'd her soul-corrupting touch, 
Farewell ! the bard may speak of thee again, 
For thou wast of those few whom he caU'd friends ; 
Not one of whom shall fall unwept, unsung-, 
While Heaven shall grant him power to feel and sing. 

Washington, May 16, 1825, 



A SONNET. 



Retubx, lovely maid ! the breeze is chill, 
And shadows repose on the plain and hill ; 
The stars are low in their heaven of blue ; 
And thy tresses are wet with the falling dew. 

Say, why dost thou wander lovely maid ! 
Through dusky groves, all lonely and sad ? 
Why dost thou walk by th' stars' faint beam, 
In the silence of night, by the rolling stream ■ 



60 

Thy tears descend on thy bosom fair ^ 
And thy sighs are heard on the passing air ; 
O .' why so sorrowful, lovely maid ? 
For lovely thou art, though mournful and sad. 

Reposes thy love in his narrow grave ; 
Or wanders he far o'er th' ocean wave ? 
O listen, fair maid ! to the stranger's lay, 
It may soothe, though thy love be far away. 

Return, lovely maid ! the breeze is chill, 
And shadows repose on the plain and hill ; 
The stars are low in their heaven of blue ; 
And thy tresses are wet with the falling dew. 

June 13, 1825. 

THE BATTLE OF LEGO. 

Verbified ft om Oss%an. 
Cuthulltn rushes in the sound of arms. 
Like awful Odin in a thousand storms ! 
When in the roar of all their winds he flies, 
And scatters fiery battles from his eyes ! 
O'er Lochlin's seas, he hovers in a cloud — 
His mighty hand is placed upon his sword, 
The rushing winds his flaming tresses raise : 
The waning moon half lights his dreadful face, 
With terrors blended in the shades of night ; 
So dreadful was Cuthullin in his might : 
The rebel Tor lath fell beneath Ins sword, 
And Lego's heroes mourn'd their fallen lord j 
They gather round — Cuthullin they invest, 
Like the black clouds that on the desert rest .- 
A thousand swords, the closing legions drew — 
A thousand arrows from their quivers flew : 



61 



But, like a rock, amid the roaring 1 main, 
He stood — he slaughter'd thousands on the plain * 
He strode in blood — Slimora echoed wide ' 
The, sons of Ullin came in all their pride— 
The battle raged — Cuthullin overcame, 
And o'er the field return'd with all his fame. 
But, pale return'd the chief of Erin's pride — 
A secret arrow pierc'd the hero's side : 
His brow was dark- — his eyes he silent roll'd 
His sword hung loosely in his feeble hold : 
His bending spear sustain'd his tott'ring weight ; 
The son of Semo sunk beneath his fate. 

Thus fell Cuthullin, terrible and strong 1 , 
And Carril mourn'd him in immortal song. 

Washington, June 18, 1.825, 



A NATIONAL SONG, 

COMPOSED FOR THE FOURTH OF JULY, 1825. 

Tune—" Hail to the Chief." 
Hail to the morning, so brilliantly beaming 

With the brightness of glory — the halo of fame, 
While the stripes and the stars are so gallantly streaming^ 
Now greeted by millions — a nation's acclaim ! 
Wide o'er the. land and deep, 
Where her dread lightnings sleep, 
Columbia has lighted her thousands of fires : 
• While their deep-volleying roar 
Rolls on every distant shore, 
Proclaiming in thunder the deeds of our sires. 

Hail to the day ! the bright era of glory. 

Whose splendor descends from the regions of light ^ 
Long may it shine in the pages of story, 

Till lost in the shade of eternity's night. 
6 



&2 

Now on Columbia's shore, 

While her loud thunders roar, 
Let us hail the return of that glorious morn , 

When Freedom's patriot band, 

United heart and hand, 
Proclaim'd to the world that a nation was born. 

Hail to the sages and heroes departed, 

Whose glory illumin'd the dark clouds of war ; 
Hail to the generous stranger,* warm-hearted, 
The Hero who came to assist us from far ! 

Long may each gallant name 

Shine on the rolls of fame ; 
Forever engrav'd on the hearts of the brave ; 

And by the sainted dead, 

And by the blood they shed, 
May our country be free while the sea rolls a wave. 

Rise, Freemen, rise ! on this joyful occasion, 

Firm and united, now let us stand ; 
Come, pledge that no tyrant shall reign o'er our nation ; 
That despots and slaves shall ne'er breathe in our land- 
Now while the cannon roars, 
And our proud Eagle soars, 
And the banner of Freedom is bright in the sky ; 
Now by the sainted dead, 
And by the blood they shed, 
Let us pledge to be freemen, or freemen to die 

* La Favette, 



63 



ODE, 



Our life is like the dream of the hunter on the hill of heath. 
He sleeps in the mild beams of the sun ; he awakes amidst 
the storm ; the red lightning- flies around. — Ossiax. 

" Thou morning sun ! who bidst me now arise, 
Whose envious beams now strike my op'ning eyes ; 
O could Lraise my feeble hands on high, 
Phoebus to check thy golden rein ; 
Or grasp thy courser by the mane, 
And stop thy flaming chariot in the sky." 

Thus said a truant youth, and closed again 
His heavy eyes in sweet, forbidden sleep, 
While balmy slumbers o'er him gently creep, 

Now fearful visions flit across his brain— 
His task unconn'd — his tutor's angry looks— 
His mis-spent time — his unregarded books 5 
And now with sudden fright, he hears 
His" school-bell ringing in his ears, 
And starting from his couch, alas ! too late* 
The trembling urchin goes to meet his fate. 

Thus like this inconsiderate youth, 

Some shun the light of heav'nly truth ; 

And idly dreaming, pass away 

Their little, transitory day. 

In guilty dreams their lives are past, 

With horror they awake at last, 

Red lightnings flash before their eyes— 

The rending earth, the blazing skies, 

And the last trump's tremendous sound, 

And millions bursting from the ground 



64 

Will rush upon their startled ears and sight ! 

In pallid ranks they then will stand, 

A ghastly, melancholy band — 
Their lurid faces glaring' in the light — 
Trembling before th 5 Eterjval Judge severe, 
Their dread, irrevocable doom to hear. 

August 25, 1825. 

To the United States' Ship Brandy wiste, in which General 
La Fayette is about to embark for France. 

Sic te Diva potens Cypri, 

Sic fratres Helense, lucida sidera, 
Ventorumque regat pater, 

Obstrictis aliis, praeter lapyga, 
Uavis, quae tibi creditum 

Debes Virgilium: finibus Atticis 
Reddas incolumem, precor ; 

Et serves animx dimidium mese. — Horace 

Hark ! what sound breaks on my ear, 

Like distant murm'ring seas ! 
Is it the sad farewell I hear 

Of millions on the breeze? 

Go, gallant ship, and o'er the main 

In triumph bear the brave / 
May Neptune and his wat'ry train 

Attend thee o'er the wave. 

Go, honor'd ship ! thy country's pride.; 

Go, proudly bear the great, 
Majestic o'er the billowy tide, 

While Heav'n directs thy fate. 

Go, sacred ship, and o'er the seas 

In safety bear the good ; 
A nation's prayer is on the breeze 

That wafts thee o'er the flood- 



65 

Immortal ship ! while the bright ray 

Of glory lights thee o'er ,■ 
The brave, the great, the good convey? 

To his dear, native shore. 

Washington, Sept. r, 1825 



REFLECTIONS 

ON RESUMING MX PLAID CLOAK; 

It is an old coat. — Shakspeare, 
Once more, my dear, my Caledonian friend 1 
I hail thee waking from thy summer's sleep, 
Rous'd by the voice of cold autumnal winds - 
How many friends in this inconstant world, 
Have been estranged since last I laid thee by I 
Friends, who once met me with the smile of morn .1 
But now whose frown is gloomier than the mist 
That hangs upon a fearful precipice : 
False, fleeting, treacherous friends, alas ! they were 
False, as the light that hovers o J er a marsh, 
Leading the lonely traveller astray %_ 
Axvl fleeting as the uncertain summer cloud 
That floats thro' ether and is seen no more ; 
And treacherous its the weeping crocodile, 
Who lures to death by his deceitful cries. 

On summer's brilliant day ; or when the heav'ns 
With starry constellations shone at night. 
Beneath the smiling skies alone I walk'd, 
Fann'd by the gentle breezes of the south 4 
I did not need thee, and thou earnest not— 
But when dark clouds obscur'd the wintry day., 
And chilling blasts from icy regions blew ^ 
Or when the roaring winds and rushing floods. 
The lightning's gleam — the awful thunder-cia© 
6* 



•66 

Commingled with the blackness of the scene. 

Made terrible the dark tempestuous night ! 

While musing* 'mid its horrors, I have roam'd, 

Fearfully pleased, and view'd the dreadful scene ! 

Like a good friend thou didst embrace me then, 

And save me from the fury of the storm. 

Not so with other friends ; alas ! I find 

In the bright summer of prosperity, 

They throng around us, like a busy swarm 

Of insects glitt'ring in the sunny ray ; 

But when adversity's bleak wintry blast 

Assaults our shiv'ring frame, those friends are gone ! 

And, I remember after many a night, 

Waking from dreams of horror in the morn $ 

Instead of forms with frightful visages, 

Which mock'd me in the visions of my sleep j 

Thee have I found, the guardian of my bed. 

Thou art my confidential, secret friend -, 

Thou tell'st no sland'rous tales to murder fame ; 

And for the follies which thou oft hast seen, 

Thou never didst upbraid me once, nor wound 

With unkind words, a bosom sensitive. 

But I have other friends, with other minds ; 

Who though as frail and faulty as myself, 

Forget their weakness, and descant on mine. 

Wrapp'd in the mantle of hypocrisy, 

With a curv'd lip and overhanging brow, 

And long reproving face of mystery 3 

Like Neddy's* visage, and his length of ears ; 

One speaks in private, " Sir I am your friend — 

I wish you well — your conduct I must blame — • 

Excuse me, Sir, if I should harshly speak,'* 

3 Neddy is a name often given to asses-, 



67 

Like an unskilful cut-throat he begins, 

And hacks with ramdom thrusts, 'till the deep wound 

Which my offence had made upon my mind, 

Breaks forth afresh, and bleeds from every vein. 

And when this work of butchery is done, 

With deep dissembling- malice he concludes j 

" Pray no offence, I am indeed your friend," 

But knowing- well the falsehood of their hearts ; 

Their dull impertinence, their grave advice, 

Their proffer'd friendship, and themselves I scorn. 

And now adieu to false dissembling friends, 
They came unask'd — they unregretted go ~, 
But thou wilt ne'er desert me in my need : 
Where'er thou goest, thy owner's name is known ; 
For on thy clasp are his initials 'graved. 

Washington, November 14, 1825, 



SABBATH REFLECTIONS. 

I know a man — a strange eccentric wight — 
The sad eventful story of his life 
Oft makes me sigh. Yet he has intervals, 
When lucid thoughts flash thro' his gloomy mind, 
Like bursts of sunshine thro' a broken cloud ; 
Those are his happy moments. Fancy, then, 
To worlds of ether soars ; and Poesy 
Comes in a flood of light upon his soul. 
When but a youth he join'd the pilgrim train, 
Follow'd our second Moses, and beheld 
The floods roll'd back by the Almighty's hand, 
When waves were heap'd on waves on either side, 
And trembled as the sacred people pass'd. 
He heard the terrors of the laio proclaim'd, 
While lightnings flash'd from Sinai's awful mount, 
And thunders fill'd his trembling soul with dread ! 



6 s 

He raised his supplicating 1 voice to Him, 
Who holds those dreadful thunders in his grasp— » 
His prayer was heard in heaven's eternal court — ■ 
Stern justice tum'd away her angry face, 
And Mercy whisper'd peace ; and a pure ray 
From heaven beam'd on his enraptur'd soul ! 
He fed upon the manna of the skies, 
And drank sweet waters from the Rock of Life ; 
Short was this blissful dream, in which a glimpse 
Of Heaven's eternal glory he beheld i 
For, as the electric instantaneous flarn^ 
Lightens in pitchy darkness, and is gone ! 
Thus left th' ethereal fire his erring soul, 
And darkness came again ; and he did sigh 
For Egypt's flesh pots which he left behind ^ 
Forsook the Lord of Gloky, and return'd 
To that drear land of sorrow, pain and death \ 
But 'mid its fearful glooms, he saw not half 
The snares and perils that beset him round ; 
'Till pale Affliction stared him in the face, 
And Death's grim spectres stood before his sight. 
Black visaged Guilt then thunderM in his ears, 
Conscience awoke, and darkness fled away ! 
And ruin's brink appear'd before his sight !. 
He tries to shun it, but he tries in vain. 
And thus a struggling dreamer in his sleep 
Who thinks he lies near some dread precipice 
That overhangs a yawning, frightful gulf ; 
Or on the shore of some dark-heaving flood, 
Whose mountain-billows rise before his sight ; 
Or dreams he sees some dreadful fire ascend 
In sheeted flames, and redden all the sky 4 
iEssays to run, but has no power to move. 



69 

O ! help us, gracious God ! for we are weak, 
Nought but the power of Omnipotence 
Can save us from the perils that await. 

Yet, 'mid the horrors of Egyptian night, 
The star of Hope appears ! that blessed star 
Which led tne eastern sages to their Lord, 
That they might worship at his infant shrine. 
O ! may we follow its auspicious ray, 
'Till it shall guide us to the realms of light, 
To that eternal Canaan of the skies. 

Washington, Dec. 18, 1825. 



NEW YEAR'S ODE, 

Written for the Carrier of the Columbian Star, to its Patrons, 
January 1, 1826. 

Ox.T) TistE in Winter's stormy reigm 
Begins his annual race again — 

The Sire of rolling years : 
He speeds on his eternal way ; 
But, short is Winter's transient stay, 

And blooming Spring appeal's. 

Then ardent Summer comes at length,, 
Emblem of man in all bis strength ; 

To full perfection grown : 
And gathers with his vigorous hand. 
The golden harvests of the land, 

And crops which Spring had sown. 

Thus tender germs we plant in youth; 
Of honor, virtue and of truths 

A joyful crop will yield ; 
But if the seeds of vice we sow, 
Rank tares of sin and pain will grow, 

And Death will reap the field. 



70 

Autumn comes on the mournful breeze, 

And clothes with yellow robes the trees- 
Emblem of man's decay ; 

Rides on the equinoxtial storm, 

While dark and sullen clouds deform 
The melancholy day. 

Tremendous on the stormy blast, 
Dread Winter comes, the first and last, 

Stern tyrant of the year : 
And scatters, with his tempests rud$ } 
The leafy honors of the wood, 

And nature all is drear. 

Patrons and Friends ! I now appear, 
The herald of the new-born year: 

The messenger of Time ; 
With offerings of my annual verse, 
To ask a tribute from your purse — ■ 

Some rhino for my rhyme. 

Washington, Dec* 31, 1825. 



ADDRESS 



Written for the Carriers of the Washington Gazette, to its 
l*atrom, January 1, 1826. 

Old father Time, as poets often feign, 
Devours his offspring to secure his reign j 
Thus has another year we lately saw, 
Expir*d a prey to his voracious maw ; 
And, he once more, upon unwearied wings, 
Has made his circuit thro' the heav'nly signs ! 
And pausing now on Janus' sacred fane, 
Prepares his journey to commence again 5 



71 



But, ere he starts on his celestial race, 
We seize a moment, and his deeds retrace. 

Now Peace extends her sceptre o'er the world. 
And scarce a hostile banner is unfurl'd ; 
Except where Freedom's standard proudly soars 
In bold defiance on her Attic shores ; 
Or only where illustrious Bolivar 
Leads forth young nations to the fields of war ; 
Delivers realms with his victorious sword, 
From the curst thraldom of a foreign lord ! 

O'er our own land, still heav'nly Freedom reigns. 
And smiling Plenty gladdens all her plains i 
Improvement marches with gigantic stride, 
Our growing Commerce whitens every tide ! 
Our Navy, too, her starry pride displays, 
"While iEgean billows brighten with the rays 
Of Freedom's flag, whose stars have ever shown 
With bright reflections from her glorious Sun ! 
Our City, too, increasing fast in wealth, 
Augments in numbers, and is blest with health— 
If we may judge by symptoms of the face, 
No yellow fevers e'er afflict the place ; 
But of a different hue as plainly shows, 
They are red fevers that infect the nose ; 
Rising from fumes of wine, or l'eau de vie — ■ 
Excuse me, patrons ! if I make too free ; 
For I am young and much in want of cents ,• 
Nor yet to prudence have I made pretence.— 
I see you smile — have I mis-spelt a word ? 
I have as little learning as of beard ; 
But cash is now the wisdom of the age— 
'Tis that which makes the stupid ass a sage ; 
Makes young maids beautiful, and old ones young-. 
And tips with silver tones the aged's tongue ! 



Which makes bold fops with shameless impudence. 

Set up their claim to learning-, wit, and sense : 

In short, if the expresion be not rash, 

The want of merit, is the want of cash. 

" But let that pass," I make too free again — ■ 

I'll try my pen at panegyric strain. 

See Erie's waters hast'ning to the main, 
And tow'ring mountains interpose in vain.! 
Clinton ! the mighty genius tnou hast shown, 
Exalts thy country's glory, and thy own . 
Thou seek'st no blood-stam'd wreath, no warrior!s fame. 
Yet future millions will revere thy name ! 
And western waters mingling with the sea, 
Thy own eternal monument will be ! 

Safe from the billows of the stormy main, 
Fayette beholds bis lovely France again ; 
While generous Frenchmen hail him to their shore, _ 
And greet the champion of their rights once more ? 
And, in their lov'd and honor'd patriot see 
The "People's friend" — the friend of Liberty. 

But after all, this " tranquil state of tilings" 
Which Europe boascs of, was vouchsafed by kings, 
Which should we mostly dread, Bellona's train, 
Or the dead calm of a despotic reign ? 
When roars the dreadful thunder-storm on high, 
And vivid lightnings blaze along the sky : 
Those elemental terrors but prepare 
A clearer sky, and a serener air : 
Thus mighty revolutions but arouse 
An injur'd people in a rightful cause ; 
And, oft they rage till theic electric ray 
Has purged the nations from their dross away, 
Until by slaves no longer is ador'd 
A fellow mortal, and obey'd as lord : 



73 



Then master spirits ride upon the wind, 
At once to frighten and arouse mankind * 
Like fiery orbs, portending- from afar 
The ire of nations kindling into war ! 
Then souls of mighty men awake to light, 
Who else had slumber'd in eternal night 5 
For that proud spirit, which a genius forms, 
Is nurs'd in whirlwinds, and expands in storms ! 
The human, as the body politic, 
Becomes, by long inaction, feebly sick, 
'Till slowly creeps along the lazy blood, 
Like the dull current of a slumb'ring flood : 
Then fades the living lustre of the eye, 
And fancy's blossoms only bloom to die ; 
Reason but glimmers with diminish'd rays, 
The body weakens, and the mind decays. 

Trust not the peace of kings — their wily snares— 
The faith of traitors is sincere as theirs : 
Like beasts, who feign to slumber by the way, 
Then sudden spring, and seize upon their prey, 
Their peace is like the stillness which precedes 
The storm on ocean, which the sailor dreads, 
When some small cloud in ether, which he spies. 
Foretells a tempest gathering in the skies, 
'Tis like the awful silence of the grave, 
Or like the slumber of a stagnant wave 5 
Whose deadly vapors taint the wholesome air, 
And load with death the poison'd atmosphere. 
For even now, upon the iEgean main, 
A treach'rous war in secret, they maintain,. 
The deadly enemies of Freedom's cause, 
And leagued with turban'd, infidel Pachas, 
German'a's hardy sons assist the Turk, 
And Frenchmen aid him in his murd'rous work 'fy 
7 



74 



Kind Patrons ! now with politics I've done^* 
1 Would say something in a gentler tone : 
* Thro' thick and thin," thro* weatner foul and fair. 
I am your humble servant all the year, 
Whether the moon displays her silv'ry light, 
Or glitt'ring stars with glory gild the night ; 
Or gath'red clouds, o'erhang the skies around 
With sable horrors, and o'ershade the ground ? 
Thro r driving rains, and thro' descending snows, 
True to his trust, your faithful news-boy goes. 
And oft, on many a dark and blust'ring night, 
When cheerful firesides can alone delight ; 
You sit around, ana bless the friendly heat, 
While patt'ring show'rs against the windows beat; 
'Till you, arous'd from your domestic joy, 
Receive your paper from the shiv'ring boy, 
And read, while he thro' tempests hurries on, 
With clatt'ring steed and with resounding horn 

They call me ** printer's devil," but I claim 
A higher title, and a nobler name — 
Fame's messenger ! thro' streets and avenues, 
I sound my trumpet, and proclaim the news ! 
Rouse politicians from then- dreams profound, 
While happy quidnuncs gladden at the sound ! 
While poets, too, with eager glance peruse, 
And slight whole columns of important news, 
Skip long debates, and search with anxious eye. 
To find in print their darling poetry $ 
But oft these rhyming wights peruse in vain ; 
Instead of stanzas that perplex'd their brain, 
With sorrow they behold ! (O ! sad rebuff!) 
Some grocer's list — more profitable stuff, 
Arrang'd like verse — illusive to the eye» 
And destitute of rhyme or harmony. 



75 

Thus travellers, without the moon's pale ray ; 
Or glimm'ring stars to guide them on their way 4 
B ehold a hill or tree with darkness crown'd, 
And gladly think a dwelling" they have found ; 
But w'aen approach'd, to their mistaken eyes, . 
Dark woods and hills in gloomy prospect rise ! 
But here, methinks my muse too tedious grows, 
I must be brief, and hasten to a close- 
Kind Patrons ! now, behold your carrier here, 
To ask a trifle which you well may spare : 
Should you a dollar give, don't think it much— - 
In turn he'll wish you twenty thousand such ; 
And, on this day, may you enjoy good cheer, 
And peace, good health, and plenty all the year. 



MODERN BCEOTIA.— A FRAGMENT. 

Ik sickly climes, where from infected bogs, 
Rise ling'ring fevers and eternal fogs!- 
From native home, from dearest friends exil'd, 
Like banish'd Ovid in the Scythian wild ; 
The poet long with heavy cares oppress' d, 
Felt every rapture die within his breast, 
Near broad Potomac and St. Clement's streams, 
He spent two summers in inglorious dreams: 
Hung his sad harp upon their piney verge, 
And mix'd his sorrows with the swelling surge I 
But now return'd from that Boeotian clime, 
Where dulness triumph'd o'er the pow'r of rhyme., 
Once more in native air, he strikes the lyre, 
New vigor warms him, and new hopes inspire— - 

But these past visions flit across his mind, 
Like mournful music on the passing wind: 
His thoughts return to that deserted dom^. 
Awhile his lonely, melancholy, home,; 



76 

An ancient pile of brick which long has, stood 

The terror of the dreary neighborhood! 

Which a black wall and shatter'd roof displays, 

Scath'd by the fury of the lightning's blaze! 

And he has slept within its gloomy halls, 

While roaring tempest rag'd around its walls ; 

While awful thunders shook its tott'ring frame, 

And night's black shades giow'd with the lightning's flame 

And ah! what sad and doleful sounds wer« those, 

Which so oft rous'd him from his short repose ? 

Nought but the night-wind's melancholy song, 

Which, groaning, swept the passage wide and long ; 

Shaking the tott'ring stair-case, while it creak'd 

As if some agonizing ghost had sliriek'd! . 

O Fancy! leave this dreary solitude, 
And all the glooms of its surrounding wood 
Of dark'ning cedars — its impoverished land — 
Repair to scenes more pkasing, where the hand 
Of strangers held the drooping poet's head, 
When raging fevers on his system prey'd — 
Tho* distant far, tho' years have roll'd away, 
Still gratitude their kindness will repay. 

Note. It was the intention of the author to extend this 
piece to a considerable length ; but, in consequence of the 
attention which he is unavoidably obliged to devote to his pro- 
fessional duties, he is, reluctantly, compelled to defer the exe- 
cution of his design to some future period. 



To a person -who boasted that he often stood upon a Dunce-bhck 
■when at school. 

Go od friend, if what you say be time, 

Your case is chang'd of late ; 
The block you stood on, stands on yov. 

That block is, now. your pate. 



77 

ADMONITORY LINES, 

Thou inexperienced youth, who durst to look 
With eager eyes in that forbidden book: 
Ere manhood's down shall ripen on thy chin, 
And ere frail nature shall consent to sin; 
Let Prudence, heav'nly monitor, restrain 
Love's rapt'rous glow that throbs in ev'ry vein. 
O! early learn your passions to control, 
And shun that fatal poison of the soul 
O ! fly the siren's enervating arms, 
Her wily arts and her deceptive charms $ 
Like wise Ulysses on the Midland main, 
Turn a deaf ear to her alluring strain* 

Go, fix thy eyes on Wisdom's matchless grace 3 
Smit with the charms of her celestial face 5 
And sooner lose their lustre o'er her page, 
Than by the vicious pleasures of the age- — 
Tho' sweet at first, those fleeting raptures cloy, 
And anguish follows each polluted joy. 

Like you, a youth, I spent the fleeting time s 
Allur'd by Dry den's sweet majestic rhyme ; 
With rapture hung on old Lucretius' strain, 
And am'rous Ovid firM my youthful brain ; 
*Till by degrees, the pleasing poison stole 
Corrupted virtue, and debas'd the soul. 
Would you to wisdom and to fame aspire 
Check the first risings of this low desire. 



Written on a money-box, in a barber's shop, Christmas^ 1825. 
Good friends! whose faces we repair, 

Here drop a trifle in 5 
And, in return, I'll trim your hair, 
And smoothly shave your «hin. 



78 

A lawyer sure would serve you worse 

Than you are served by me, 
He'd shave your pockets clip your purse, 

And then demand his fee. 



PINKNEY'S GRAVE, 

In the Washington Burial Ground, near the Eastern Branch: 
Whose words were sparks of immortality. — Byr©n, 
As late I roam'd with reverential tread, 
The silent city of the slumb'ring dead ; 
Upon a plain grave-stone, I read a name, 
Forever brilliant on the rolls of Fame : 
The sacred dust of Pistkney there beneath 
Lies mould'ring in the narrow house of death, 
While his immortal mind, no longer here, 
Has mix'd with beings in another sphere. 
But the bright emanations of that mind, 
The gleams of genius he has left behind — 
O ! would some friendly hand collect those rays, 
That they might shine in one effulgent blaze — 
A brilliant orb of his immortal fame, 
That glory's halo might surround his name. 



LINES 

On the Fiftieth Anniversary of American Independence. 
Immortal era on the rolls of time, 
Big with the fate of realms and glorious men : 
Thou day of smiles and tears — of light and gloom 
Of sorrow and rejoicing. Tho' the sun 
Of gladness beam'd upon thy hallow'd morn ; 
Yet Fate's black clouds, big with a nation's tears', 
Darken'd thy sky, and ere he sunk to rest, 
T-wo orbs, the glory of our land, had set ! 



79 

O thou / who rulest o'er this mourning land, 
What filial sorrow, and what public woe 
Afflict thy bosom with a two-fold grief : 
Thou mourn'st thy country's father and thine owa 
A patriot's tears are mingled with a son's. 
Deign to accept this verse of condolence ; 
*Tis from a bard not quite unknown to fame — 
A bard who oft has sung his country's praise. 
Now o'er these realms that own thy gentle rule, 
O'er boundless plains, aud o'er unnumber'd floods. 
From chilly regions to the fervid south ; 
Lo I sympathetic millions with thee weep, 
And swell the torrent of a nation's tears : 
Proud Alleghany bows in silent grief 
His tow'ring head, crown'd with eternal blue, 
And floods majestic, swollen with our tears, 
Roll mournfully ; and boundless forests, too, 
Gloom with a deeper and more awful shade, 
And bend obedient to the sighing gales. 

O Death ! thy dark dominion was illum'd 
On this thy day of visitation here, 
And thy wide realms of horror gleam'd awhile 
With tracks of light that shone upon the path 
Of those illustrious men — compatriots here ; 
And now, companions in a heav'nly world- 

And thou / whose tuneful Ciceronean voice 
Now sooths the spirits of the honored dead, 
Whether the electric flashes of thy mind 
In thunder burst upon the guilty head, 
To hurl the bold aspirant from his height, 
Like Titans vanquish'd by ethereal bolts ; 
©r, sweet as music of Apollo 5 s lyre^ 



80 



Thy polish'd periods charm the listening- ear : 
Or, whether we peruse thy splendid page, 
Where variegated beauty charms the eye, 
Like thy own pictur'd paradise whieh bloom'd 
On .that sweet isle that crowns Ohio's wave ; 
Thy country hails thee as a favorite son, 
Endow'd with virtue, eloquence, and fame. 

Washington, Oct 19, 1826, 



STANZAS, 



Addressed to my esteemed young Friend, Midshipman T. P« 
G**** 3 on his departure for sea. 

Farewell ! a word which must be, and hath been, 
A sound which makes us linger. — Bihon. 

Then farewell ! if so it must be, 

I part with reluctant emotion ; 
But, alas ! when again shall I see 

My fair, little lad of the ocean ? 

Go, traverse the regions of brine, 

And billows forever in motion ; 
Let your conduct there brilliantly shine, 

Like a brave little lad of the ocean. 

Despise petty low-minded pride, 

Be gentle as ever and kind j 
Be honor and virtue thy guide, 

Let courage inspirit thy mind. 

Thy prospects are bright as the morn, 

Thy path is the path of the great ; 
But I'm like a tree tempest-torn, 

Left to float on the billows of fate. 



81 

Say, what could attach thee, dear youth •! 

To a poet so sad and forlorn ! 
•Twas surely his sadness to sooth, 

And the poet esteems thee inJlurn. 

As a beautiful flower- wreath entwin'd 
Round a lonely, a desolate tree ; 

Thus, thus, was our friendship combined, 
And such was thy friendship for me. 

How oft when my spirit was sad, 
And writhing with painful emotion.. 

My sorrow was sooth'd by this lad. 
This kind, little lad of the ocean. 

When prosperity ceas'd to illume, 
When fortune to me was unkind ; 

Thy playfulness banished my gloom, 
And restor'd my composure of mind. 

But now thou art gone, and I'm left, 
All lonely to breathe this sad strain ; 

Yet, of comfort I am not bereft, 
Since my loss is thy infinite gain 

Yet, oft thou appear'st to my sight, 

When the murm'ring, lone breeze I hear, 

When it comes in the silence of night, 
And whispers thy name to my ear. 

Should thy poet ennoble his name. 
If honor should give thee promotion ; 

He will sing of the deeds of thy fame, 
Thou fair, youthful son of the ocean • 



82 

If ocean be stormy or even — 

In a calm — in the tempest's commotion \ 
May the hand of an All-Ruling- Heaven 

Protect thee, good lad of the ocean ! 

Washington, Dec. 14, 1826, 



IMPROMPTU. 



Demosthenes, 'tis said, receiv'd a sum — 
A bribe from Harpalus which made him dumb ; 
Though loudly he declaim'd upon the beach,* 
In roaring tempests, and improv J d his speech ; 
Though oft he thunder'd to th' Athenian throng, 
Who on his words in mute attention hung ; 
Yet on that day, when he appear'd in court, 
His face was sad, and muffled was his throat ; 
His tongue was mute — the crowd demanded why \ 
The silver quinsy / was a wag's reply. 
The case is now revers'd — a modern tribe 
Much better speak when they've receiv'd a bribe ; 
How keen their wit — how eloquent their notes, 
When they have Qcimct's silver in their throats. 

Washington, March 30, 1827. 



STANZAS. 
Near thrice ten circling years have hurried by, 

Since first in boyhood's joyous morn I came 
To this fair city, then in infancy, 

If of a city it deserv'd the name. 

* Demosthenes frequently recited by the sea shore, when 
the waves were violently agitated, to accustom himself t© the 
tumultuous assemblies of Athens. 



83 

Then thickets gTew where stately domes ascends 
And Tiber spread along- his marshy shore 

His wat'ry arms, where pavements now extend, 
And busy Commerce crowds her treasur'd store. 

Yet Nature spread her primal scenes around— 
The verdant plain and the delightful mead, 

_And winding- streams with groves of willow crown'd s 
Thro' thickets murmur'd, and thro' valleys stray'd-? 

The wood-crown' d hill, and the romantic vale, 

And sylvan haunts to musing- poets dear, 
And lovely flowers that breath' d upon the gale, 

Portray'd the beauteous landscape that was here. 

Oh, Washington ! that bear'st an honor' d namej 
Thou mistress of the happiest clime on earth, 

Great city ! destined to eternal fame, 

How chang'd since Freedom first announe'd thy birth ! 

How great thy change since first I saw the sun 
In splendor beam alor.g Potomac's flood ; 

Since first to me upon thy hills he shone, 
And ting'd with morning beams the distant wood 

Tho' on thy plains the rural reign is o'er, 

And those enchant' ng scenes have vanish'd long--— 

Fond mem'ry will their pleasing charms restore, 
In verse to flourish, and exist in song. 

And tho' amid thy bustling crowds I rhyme, 

But little pleasure they to me mvpart ; 
More pleas'd am I with Nature's scenes sublime, 

Than with, the splendid works of boasted Art. 

Washington, April 26, 182?. 



84 - 
ON MAJOR JOSEPH WHEATON, 

i.N AGED REVOLUTIONARY OFFICER, RESIDING IN THIS CITT* 

Still are those^arms which once on Britons blaz'd, 

When flush' d with conquest to the charge they came ; 

That power repell'd and Freedom's fabric rais'd, 

She leaves her soldier — famine and a name J — Freweau. 

Shame on my country ! if one patriot sire 
Should pine in sorrow, and in want expire ; 
Shame on my country ! if she could neglect 
The war-worn vet'ran, and his worth forget. 
Lo ! here he lives, like Bellisanus blind, 
Grown old in service, and to want consign'd ! 
Ye gen'rous sons of this heaven-rescued land ! 
O ! say, shall one of that immortal band, 
Neglected sink in penury's cold grave ? 
O ! save from sorrow — from misfortune save, 
Those eyes that lighten'd on the martial plain, 
But sightless now — shall they implore in vain ? 
Those Hands that on the wave first struck the blow,* 
And grasp'd the banner of the conquer'd foe — 
Say shall those wither'd hands solicit aid ? 
And will such valor with neglect be paid ? 
That vet'ran few, yet ling'ring from the tomb, 
Will shortly meet the universal doom : 
Death's ev'ning shadows flit before their sight, 
While Freedom shines with undiminish'd light: 
They dimly see in life's departing ray, 
Their country's glory and their own decay ; 
To younger hands resign their sacred trust, 
Ere fate consigns them to congenial dust : ' 
With their own souls, the rising race inspire, 
And bid the children emulate the sire. 

* Maj. W. was the first who hauled down the British flag on 
the wave, a short time after the battle of Lexington. Vide 
Goldsborough's Naval Chronicle, vol. I. page 25. 



85 



Yet while on earth the hoary sires remain., 
'Tis ours to comfort, cherish and sustain : 
And should this unaffected verse impart 
One ray of comfort to some sorrowing heart— 
'Tis freely offer'd by a soul sincere, 
That scorns to flatter, and that does not fear 
The pamper'd sons of vice and idleness— 
But rather sooths the vet'ran in distress ; 
To bid awhile, in verse, his merits live, 
Is all the tribute that the muse can give. 

Washington, Sept. 20, 182?. 



THE POET AND THE ASS. 
In imitation of the -writer of that elegant fable 3 

"TEE boar and the beaver." 
A Poet thus besought a Jack — 
•' Pray let me ride upon your back ; 
For Pegasus, a fiery steed, 
Is too impetuous in his speed j 
Whene'er I try to mount his back. 
He throws me off and flies the track \ 
As if he dreads the pond'rous weight 
That mostly centres in my pate.'' 
" Dear brother bard !" the ass replied, 
" I will with pleasure and with pride. 
Since Pegasus rejects your load, 
Become its bearer on the road ; 
But brother, hark 1 — a word or two, 
While we our devious way pursue, 
If you will rhyme, then I will bray, 
And thus we'll pass the time away." 
Now Jack and Poet strain their throats. 
And sweetly rise the swelling notes : 
8 



S6 

The warblers of the grove are mute, 
And tuneful owls in chorus hoot : 
Thus happily they pass'd along, 
Enraptur'd with each others song ; 
And quite enamour'd with each other, 
Agreed as brother should with brother. 
Thus poets, who are rather dull, 
And plagued with heaviness of skull, 
Ere they attempt a lofty strain, 
Or flight serial of the brain ; 
Should, like our prudent bard, beware, 
And of their precious necks take care ; 
Like him should jog securely on, 
And let all dangerous flights alone : 
Like him should " short excursions try,' 
Or take their subjects from the sty. 



TO ERIN, 



On hearing the recitation of Emmet's dying speech, by a 
youth, at the recent public exhibition at the Washington Ca- 
tholic Seminary. 

Land of the generous soul ! so long 
The clime of glory and of song : 
Hail Erin ! parent of the brave — 
Encircled by the ocean wave. 
Land of the patriot heart ! for thee 
Thy Emmet died to make thee free ; 
For thee he breathed his latest breath, 
While weeping Freedom mourn'd his death. 
Land of the brilliant mind ! whose rays 
Of genius brighten'd other days : 
Whose radiance like the orb of light, 
Dispell'd the shades of mental night. 
Sons of that land ! and do ye fear 
The haughty Briton's look austere i 



87 

Sons of that land ! and will ye cow'r 
Beneath the haughty Briton's power ? 
Let England boast the humbled Scot, 
Content with his degraded lot ; 
Still let her yoke on India's plain 
A servile unresisting train : 
Still rule the low Canadian race, 
Our western regions- sole disgrace ; 
Such hearts as these she may control, 
But not the brave Hibernian soul ; 
She cannot sway the noble mind— - 
Thy spirit's free and unconfin'cL 
O ! if thy Erin must obey 
Her pow'r, tho' she detests the sway, 
Come to the land where Freedom reigns- 
Come to Columbia's boundless plains* 



REFLECTIONS 

Suggested during an excursion over the romantic Heights %f 
Georgetown, D. C. 

What, though the poet's lyre has sounded long 
Our country's glory, and proclaim'd in song 
The hero's triumph, and the statesman's praise, 
Alas ! to him how useless are his lays : 
How vain his claims to patronage and place 
Who lacks some useful impudence of face ; 
Too diffident to press amid the crowd 
With unread vouchers and professions loud-^ 
Too proud to cringe — too candid to disguise, 
And by low cunning yet unskill'd to rise : 
An art to grov'ling souls alone confin'd — 
The highest talent of the lowest mind. 
Content he leaves expectants to their fate, 
Daily to importune and tease the great— = 



ss 

To put ia empty pockets each repulse, 
To feed on promise and digest insults. 

And now, adieu ! to all the bustling- crowd — 
The idle, gay, the selfish, and the proud- 1 - 
The sultry city, and its dusty streets ; 
To woody summits and to cool retreats 
Awhile the melancholy bard repairs, 
To sooth his sorrows and dispel his cares ; 
'Mid sylvan scenes to wander with delight, 
And view with pleasure each romantic height. 

By Nature's pencil boldly pictur'd here, 
Magnificent, sublime, her scenes appear ! 
High sloping hills, crown'd with majestic vo^ds, 
And vales resounding with descending floods. 
Thro 5 rocky chasms winds the murm'ring streain, 
Glitt'ring thro' thickets with a silv'ry gleam : 
Here fertile fields extend, and palaces 
In rural grandeur rise amid the trees ! 
On sites commanding most delightful views 
Of blooming gardens, shaded avenues, 
And all the rich and varied scenery, 
Which round, in grand perspective, charm the eye. 

How calm — how still these solitudes appear ! 
No sound of discord grates upon the ear ; 
The sweet musicians of the shady grove, 
Warble their songs of melody and love. 
No sights disgusting here the eye offend— - 
The vile defamer or the faithless friend ; 
For should such serpents spit their venom here.. 
Pollute these bowers and infect this air ; 
Should such unhallowed monsters here invade. 
Farewell the pleasures of the rural shade : 
Better to unfrequented regions go, 
Hntrod by reputation's direst foe ; 



89 

Where naught appears to the dejected eye 
But sandy deserts bounded by the sky, 
Than through a blooming- paradise to rove, 
Where hated serpents hiss in every grove. 



STANZAS. 

The Bard hath ceas'd — his lyre hangs now 
In sadness on the willow bough ; 
He feebly sings his mournful strain— 
O ! who shall hear his lyre again y 

This sordid world has chill'd his soul s 
Unconscious now of joy's control ; 
His lyre is heard with cold disdain- 
Why should he sound it e'er again ? 

His heart is sad — his hopes are dark- 
Fancy emits no glimm'ring spark $ 
Life's but a scene of mental pain — 
When shall he sound his lyre again ? 

When sorrow's clouds have pass'd away s 
When pleasure sheds a glad'ning ray $ 
Then will he breathe a joyous strain— 
O ! then you'll hear his lyre again, 



STANZAS. 



O ! could I quench, in Lethe's stream. 
My burning thoughts at last, 

Which ever in a mad'ning dream,, 
Recur to follies past J 



90 

Vain, impious wish ! not Lethe's wave 
Nor boundless seas that roll, 

The conscience from remorse can save. 
Nor cleanse the guilty soul. 

Yet I will hope — there is a wave, 

A blest, redeeming tide, 
Which flow'd — a sinful world to save — 

From Jesus' sacred side. 



In anticipation of the approach of General Jackson, to the Me- 
tropolis of the Union. 

He's coming, but not in a conqueror's car, 

'Mid the din of the battle — the terrors of war, 

But the mild beams of peace will around him be shefl. 

And the wreath of the patriot encircle his head. 

He comes, not as Caesar in martial array, 

To trample on Freedom with absolute sway ; 

But like Cincinnatus, the good and the great, * , 

Resigning the plough for the helm of the state. 

He comes, but in sadness and sorrow of mind, 
And the cypress leaf with his wreath is entwin'd : 
All lonely he comes ! though by thousands attended — 
His Consort, alas ! to the tomb has descended. * 

She's gone, where the sland'rer no more can molest — 
Where the righteous from trouble eternally rest ; 
She's gone to a region far happier than this — 
Left an earthly abode for a mansion of blisa- 



91 



The splendor of triumph is clouded with wo— 
The tears of a nation in unison flow : 
They glitter like dew-drops of morn in the ray 
Which gilds the bright dawn of Democracy's day. 

A new Saturnalia its glory displays ! 
Rejoice, then, O Freemen ! rejoice in its rays ; 
Lo ! Astrea to earth has descended once more, 
Our wrongs to redress, and our rights to restore . 



THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS- 

A NATIONAL SO NO. 

Tune— « Hail to the Chief.' 1 
Hail to the Hero ! the pride of his country, 

Honor'd by all be his ever great name ; 
Where is the man, who presumes with effront'ry, 
To tarnish the laurels that bloom with his fame \ 
Down where the waters flow, 
He met th' invading foe, 
Where great Mississippi resounds with his fame 9 
There, with his gallant band s 
Nobly sustain'd the land. 
And cover'd the foe with confusion and shame, 

Loudly the thunders of battle were roaring, 

Hurling defeat on the ranks of the foe ; 
Proudly above, the bold Eagle was soaring— 
The warriors of Britain were prostrate and low ! 
There, with undaunted mien, 
Jackson shone amid the scene — ■ 
The red glare of battle the Hero display'd ! 
He ev'ry bosom fiVd — 
His voice ev'ry one inspir'd — 
To conquest — to glory, they rush'd undismayed. 



92 



'Mid volumes of smoke that the combat enshrouded* 
Thy banner, O Freedom ! with brilliancy shone ; 
But Britain ! the sun of thy glory was clouded — 
Thy leg-ions were routed — thy hosts overthrown! 

No more, along- our coast, 

Is heard their haughty boast, 
While "beauty and booty" to battle impel — 

Long they '11 lament the day, 

When in the mortal fray, 
Their hopes were all crush'd with the thousands who fell! 

Hail, thou firm Patriot ! belov'd by the nation — 

Thy honor unsoil'd — thy integrity tried ; 
Worthy to fill the most exalted station, 

Witii valor to save, and with skill to preside 

In vain th' intriguing foe 

Aims the insidious blow, 
To blight thy fair laurels, to sully thy fame , 

Truth, with the rays of light, 

Thy virtues, brave chief will write — 
In the annals of greatness emblazon thy name ' 



A SATIRE ON INTEMPERANCE. 

Amok© the sons of men, I pity much 
The fever' d wretch awaking from debauch, 
With nerves unsteady and with madden'd brain, 
Aghast ! he stalls at the horrific train ! 
How sad to him is morn's returning light ; 
While mad'ning visions flit before his sight : 
In vain ill nature smiles in loveliest bloom, 
To him she wears a universal gloom ; 
In ev'ry face a look of scorn he sees, 
And hears reproaches in the murm'ring breeze. 



93 

Conscience, that gnawing worm that never dies," 
Presents these frightful visions to his eyes — 
These horrid phantasies — this fiend-like train, 
That haunt his fancy and distract his brain, 
Intemperance ! our direst mortal foe, 
Thou fatal cause of everlasting wo — 
Say, fiend accurst, since earth and time began, 
What are thy gifts and benefits to man ? 
What is thy meed ? Death — death is the reply, 
While realms Tartarean echo back the cry. 

Tho' I this vice have censur'd in my rhymes, 
I hate the canting blockheads of the times ; 
Whose stupid admonitions are far worse 
Than Curio's dull harangues or Chambers' dose. 
Those zealous friends of temperance protest, 
Who swill in private with as great a zest 
As any tippler at the tavern bar- 
Compare the two — the first is guiltier far. 
'Tis not Intemperance, that deadly sin, 
That wakes their zeal, or that excites their din s 
Nor Bacchus, tho' he willingly bestows, 
His myrtle garland to adorn their brows — ■ 
Their petty names in print, their only .aim-*— 
A days importance and a mushroom fame. 

Old Bibo in a public tippling place, 
Would scorn to show his dull besotted face | 
Yet he in secret sips the fiery wave — 
And why ? his cash and character to save : 
With drunkenness and avarice accurst, 
His latter passion more than damns his first. 

Evils like these the patient nluse can bear — 
The hypocrite's reproof — the bigot's sneer ; 
But the unblushing wretch who would retail 
The poison, and grow wealthy by the sale*— 



94 

Miscreants, who swill and fatten on the spoil, 
And plundered earnings of the poo- man's toil : 
And yet would hypocritically persuade 
Th* half murdered victims of their cursed trade, 
When they have filched their last amount of gain, 
From the intemp'rate use of drink abstain. 
Such brutes as these indignant I detest, 
A public nuisance, and the nation's pest. 

O ! may the bard henceforth forever fly 
Each haunt of vice — each Bacchanalian sty ; 
And calmly tread the consecrated ground, 
While holy inspiration breathes around; 
\nd when at last, that solemn hour shall com§, 
When fate shall seal his everlasting doom ; 
() ! may his end he quiet and serene, 
Like setting suns that gild an ev'ning scene. 



CHRISTMAS VERSES. 

Thou day! that bear'st a sacred name, 

Inspire the poet's mind ; 
Hail blessed day! when Jesus came 

In mercy to mankind. 

Come, with me join the sacred lay,—- 

Join all ye sons of earth ! 
Come, with me hail the glorious day 

That gave the Saviour birth. 

Blest is the sun that shines this day, 
And stars which gild this night : 

He shines with more celestial ray : 
They with a purer light 



95 

And henceforth may we purely live, 
Anol may th' Eternal Sos, 

On this, his natal day, forgive 
The faults whicn we have done. 



STANZAS. 

The lovely flowers of spring decay, 
And summer blossoms fade away; 
Death steals the hue of youthful bloom, 
And beauty moulders in the tomb ; 
But love, pure hve, unearthly iiame, 
Returns to Heaven from whence it came, 
Not won by beauteous rorm, nor pelf ; 
But charms immortal as itself — 
A loveliness that 's more refin'd, 
The peerless beauty of the mind. 



ADDRESS 



Written for the Carriers of the National Intelligencer, to its 
Patrons, January 1, 1828. 

O Time! that ever guid'st the rolling* years, 
As orbs revolve in their eternal spheres — 
S' ir" _.i ssriiger of the Almighty's will — 
Destroyer of the works of human skill: 
Dread Power! by thee, what millions are entomb 'd— 
What mighty empires to the dust are doom'd! 
Thy potent arm has scatter'd o'er the plain 
The lofty tower, the antiquated fane. 
The stately column and the scuiptur'd bust, 
By thee are crumbled, and return to dust: 
Proud monuments are tott'ring to decay, 
And Ru n ti .ads thy desolating .'ay ; 
Where lonely 'mid depopulated plains, 
fie broods in silence, and iris sway maintains* 



<)6 



Years, seasons, months — the children of thy reign. 
Obey tny mandate, and attend thy train. 
Lo! beauteous Spring- with rosy hand bestows 
A. flow'ry garland to adorn tby brows ; 
Summer to thee a fruitful off'ring yields, 
And Autumn, patron of the yellow fields, 
His trioute pays, and to thy sway conforms, 
And winter hails thee in resounding- storms. 

O! say, what earthly pow'r — what human might 
Can stay one moment Time's eternal flight ? 
As onward on untiling wings he flies, 
Old empires totter, and new States arise : 
When Babylon, Assyria, and the Mede, 
And Grccan givatness in the dust were laid. 
Then empire sought the bright Italian shore, 
And Rome became what Carthage was before ; 
Then Pow'r proceeded Northward in its flight. 
And realms emerging from barbarian night, 

■ ngth increasing, next extend their reign 
> e tant n gions, and the boundless main. 
Forc'd by the tyranny of Europe's kings, 
Freedom came hither on exploring wings — 
To Western climes pursued hervenfrous way. 
And our young nation brighten'd in 4 o day ; 
No misty legends of a barb'rous age, 
Dim the fair annals of Columbia's page ; 
Xo origin she claims from Gothic night — 
- rang like Pallas, perfect into light : 
And information's cl -ar unclouded ray, 
Beam'd in full splendor on her natal day. 

What num'rous blessings crown our favor'd land! 
Far as her bright and happy realms •: xpand, 
See Industry and Enterprise combin'd, 
And Learning, dawning in the youthful mind ; 



97 



And ail a nation's happiness that flows 

From Freedom, Virtue, and which Peace bestows. 

Our Commerce, too, her snowy wing expands, 

And wafts our products to remotest lands: 

And our bold squadrons, too, in proud array. 

On every sea the starry flag- display, 

And bear, our peaceful commerce to sustain, 

Their sleeping thunders o'er the billowy main 

Again War's crimson'd banner is unfurl'd, 
And mighty nations rise to shake the world — 
The storm -cloud low'rs — and the thund'ring roa>- 
Of battle echoes on the Grecian shore ! 
Gigantic Powers with the Turk contend, 
And shatter'd navies to the deep descend! 
See their proud banners o'er the Crescent fly, 
While Greece beholds her own deliv'rance nigh 
Immortal Greece! what claims to thee belong! 
Thy very name inspires the poet's song! 
Thy sacred soil, which tyrants now invade, 
Inhumes the ashes of thy ancient dead. 
Methinks thy warlike sons of other days— 
Thy heroes famous in immortal lays — 
Their awful forms — a visionary band, 
Stride like gigantic shadows o'er the land! 
And, as they grimly frown, they seem to say— 
"Rise up, my sows, and spurn barbarian sway/" 
Honor impels and Liberty inspires — 
And Grecians rise and emulate their sires. 

Thus have I shown you, in my humble rhyme, 
The march of Empire and the flight of Time — 
Glanc'd at the news and now, good patrons, pray, 
Some kind attention to your Carrier pay — 
To him, who oft thro' rain and tempests goes, 
And in your doors the welcome paper throws. 
9 



98 

LINES, 

On viewing the Panorama of the Falls of Niagara. 

Terribly awful and sublimely grand, 
See Nature's wonder to the view expand! 
Behold yon radiant bow in glory bend, 
While mists eternal to the sky ascend! 
And see those awful cliffs in grandeur rise, 
Crown'd with green woods and hanging in the skies: 
Tremendous Cataract! thy mountain foam, 
Will dash, 'till Nature meets her final doom ; 
Then — not till then, will cease thy thund'ring roar: 
And thy resplendent arch be seen no more. 



STANZAS, 



J saw him — but sadness clouded his brow, 

And his lyre was wreath'd with a garland of woe ; 

And its cypress leaves were all bedew'd 

With the tears that he shed in solitude. 

This world, this world, is cold to him, 
Vnd the lire that ulumin'd his mind is dim ; 
And Poesy's visions arc bright no more, 
And cold is the bosom that glow'd before- 

The muses no more bis voice inspire, 
And a mourning wreath encircles his lyre, 
And its cypress leaves are all bedew'd ' 
With his tears thai fall in solitude. 



OUT AND IN. 
When a young man sets out, w here follies entice 
'Tis a hundred to one but he falls into vice 5 
When out of esteem of the good and the wise, 
hi that of the vicious he'll certainly rise ; 



99 

His virtuous associates he leaves in the lurch, 
Is frequent in taverns — oft out of the church : 
While he lays out his money, he runs in expenses, 
And when he's in liquor, he's out of his senses. 
He's soon out of credit, and soonm distress ; 
Out at the elbows, and shabby in dress? 
And if some kind spirit in mercy don't save, 
He's out of existence, and in the cold grave: 
And as preachers inform us, Oh! shocking- to tell- 
ff then out of Heaven, he's surely in Hell. 



"BEAUTY AND BOOTY.' 4 

In proud New Orleans 5 splendid domes, 

Her beauteous daughters sigh'd: 
They thought of the foe — they thought of their hornes ? 

They thought of themselves beside, 

At the lattice sat the trembling fair, 

And list to the battle's roar, 
} Till its distant thunders had died in air, 

On Mississippi's shore. 

But little they knew of that watch-word, 

Which Briton's had pronounc'd, 
Nor did they know, 'till the shout was heard 

Which victory announced! 

The gallant Jackson now appears, 

From glorious fields subdu'd, 
'Mid the shouts of the brave, and beauty's tears 3 

Of joy and gratitude* 



LOO 

Ih the street were rang'd the virgin throng 1 , 

A beautious multitude, 
And the Hero they bless'd as he pass'd along* 

And flowers before him strew'd. 

And long will Louisiana's fair, 

With grateful bosoms glow: 
And for the Chief, breathe many a pray'r, 

And laiu-el wreaths bestow. 



STANZAS. 



I've seen the smiling summer skies, 

All glorious and serene • 
I've seen the rolling- clouds arise 

And darken all the scene. 

I've seen the woods with beauty crown'd- 
The fields were blight and green, 

And lovely blossoms blooin'd around, 
And deck'd the sylvan scene. 

I look'd — the trees were fading fast — 
Their leaves were soon decay'd • 

The flowers were wither'd by the l>lu-.t. 
And verdure all was dead ! 

There is a spirit in the air 

Which whispers calm delight, 

When skies appear for ever clear 
And seas for ever bright. 

But oft the whispers of the breeze 

In roaring storms are lost, 
And oft the bright and placid seas 

In mountain waves are tost. 



101 

The wind is gentle then no more, 

And floods which shone so bright. 

Along their dark and lonely shore, 
Mourn all the live-long night. 

And thus, some fond illusion fair 
Our brightest hopes adorn: 

To-morrow comes a cloud of care, 
And we are left to mourn. 

Life's blessings please — its ills annoy, 

And tears of sorrow flow — 
One fleeting moment is of joy— 
Another is of woe. 



THE POET'S HAPPY HOUR, 

There is a bright and happy hour, 
Which rules with sweet control ; 

Serene, as if some seraph power 
Had breath'd into the soul. 

'Tis like the tranquil summer seas, 
When storms have died away ; 

? Tis like the sweet refreshing breeze 5 
That cools the sultry day. 

The ills of life are now forgot, 

And foes are all forgiven; 
Serenely flows the stream of thought, 

And fancy soars to Heaven. 

But ah ! this hour soon fleets away— 

It brightens, and is gone ! 
Bear hour of peace! Oh stay! oh stayi 

Oh ! leave me not so soon ! 

9* \ 



102 

'Tis vanish 1 d now — and in its stead, 
See care's unlovely train; 

My vision 'd hour of joy has fled, 
And sorrow comes again. 



THE PROUD MAN. 

I met the proud man with a bow, — 

He made me no return; 
His haughty brow— his haughty brour 

Was still severe and stern. 

I saw the poor man bending- low, 

His humble homage pay j 
That haughty brow — that haughty brovi 

Turn'd scornfully away. 

Next unassuming worth applied, 

His modest suit prctVrr'd ; 
That haughty brow— that eye of pride 

Repuls'd him us he sneerM. 

I met him on May's loveliest morn — 

All nature smil'd serene; 
That haughty eye— that eye of scorn 

Despis'd the beauteous scene. 

I saw him where the sweetest strain 

Of music breath'd around! 
I watch'd that brow of cold disdain — 

Contemptuously it frown'd. 

I saw him in the holiest place, 

By mortals ever trod, 
That brow — it wore no sign of grace — 

It mock'd the praise of GOD ! 



Proud mortal! in that awful hour, 
When naught from death can save, 

Ah! then, thy haughty brow will cow'] 
And moulder in the grave. 



To Paul Plagiary, Esq.. of the Journal, [in reply.] 
Prat tell us, Paul, when next you write, 

Intent to make us laugh, 
Had brave McDufne gone to fight, 

Would he have Met-a-calf ? 

And should / meet thee, poet Paul. 

As 'long the street I pass, 
(Pray let not anger raise thy gall) 

I'd surely meet an Jlss. 



ADDRESS, 



Written for the Carriers of the National Intelligencer, to 
its Patrons, January 1, 1830. 

Another year has past — its course is run — 
Its charms have wither' d, and its glory gone ; 
And nought remains but leafless shrubs and trees, 
Thro' which resounds the mournful wint'ry breeze — 
Murm'ring* a sad lament thro' forests drear — 
A solemn dirge for the departed year. 

What, tho' no icy fetters yet enchain 
The gentle streams that murmur o'er the plain ; 
Tho' now your Carrier may truly sing, 
The reign of Winter is the reign of Spring ; 
Yet, the dread Conqueror is hast'ning on, 
In roaring tempests, and on whirlwinds borne : 
To scatter desolation o'er the heath, 
A»d chill all nature with his icy breath- 



104 

An emblem of this season of the year, 

Patrons ! behold your faithful Carrier here — 

Pleas'd and content his daily round to go, 

While bounteous Heav'n health and strength bestow, 

But, friends, alas ' old age is coming fast — 

These limbs grow feeble and must fail at last : 

Yet, tho' in life's decline — tho' waning old, 

He still will venture through the rain and cold ; 

Still will his first ambition be to serve 

His patrons, and their kindness to deserve. 

Kind friends ! excuse these unassuming rhymes — 
Poetic flowers bloom not in frosty climes; 
And, tho' Parnassus' head is crown'd with snow, 
His crystal streams thro' flow'ry regions flow. 
Youth has the soul for poetry ; but Age 
Has graver thoughts, and reads a graver page ; 
Nor vainly aims his subjects to describe, 
In glowing numbers, like the tuneful tribe. 
Tho' rhet'ric fail, opinion may be right — 
An old man's sentiments are short and trite. 
Th' eventful scenes of the departed year, 
To different eyes, in various lights appear. 
The Nation's helm another Pilot guides — 
" Reform" is marching with gigantic strides : 
The simple, wise, the humble, and the great, 
Receive alike an undistinguished fate : • 

Thus when an angry storm o'erspreads the skies, 
And the red light'ning 'mid the tempest flies, 
The towering oak — the little shrubs below — 
Alike are struck and shatter'd by the blow ! 

"Whether an Adams or a Jacksox claim 
The people's suffrage, and aspire to fame — 
Some sordid minds still aim at selfish ends, 
And bend their course where private interest tends : 



105 

Their own emoluments their greatest aim — 

They pull down fabrics and rebuild the same. 

Useless experiments— a needless cost — 

The time is squander' d, and the labor lost. 

Yet, with such works of supererogation 

Our modern patriots would " reform" the nation. 

Patrons and friends ! I'm too advanced in life 
To mix again in politics and strife ; 
I leave contending parties to maintain. 
Their difPrent int'rests, and promote their gatftj; 
And should their animosities dispense 
O'er freedom's land a partial influence ; 
But momentary is the useless din — • r 

They only quarrel to be friends again : 
And Ocean thus, when black'ning storms arise ? 
And heave his mountain billows to the skies, 
When the loud tempest of the angry main 
Has spent its fury, and is calm again— 
The tranquil sea, vex'd and deform'd no more, 
Wears the same aspect that it did before. 

" My hour has almost come," but, ere I cease g 
I thank kind Heaven for the beams of peace 
That visit now our earth — and, to you, friends, 
A cordial greeting now your Carrier sends. 



ELEGIAC STANZAS, 

On the loss of the United States' Ship Hornet, 
[written for a friend.] 

The storm is o'er — its rage is spent, 
The tempest cloud has past away ; 

Calm is the billowy element, 
The moon-beams on its ripples play 



106 

That noble Ship ! O where is she ? 

That rode upon th' ocean foam ; 
Her gallant sons ! and do they see 

Again their dear — their native home ?' 

Ah no ! beneath the swelling wave — 
Beneath the billows of the deep — 

There in their wat'ry coral grave, 
The heroes of Columbia sleep. 

Full many an eye so bright before, 

Has lost its lustre in the sea ; 
And many a form, tho' seen no more. 

Yet lives alone in memory. 

And tho' Destruction late had past— 
Voracious monster of the main — 

Careering on the stormy blast, 

With horrid Shipwreck in liis train, 

No trace of all the wreck was seen — 
No sound was heard, but of the breeze 

That curl'd the gentle waves serene, 
"While radiance shone along the seas 



&1t llltQV, 

IB MEMORY OF MY DECEASED TATHEB, 

JOHN W. BRASHEARS, 

Who died in Prince George's county, Md. JE. 56. 
Affectionately inscribed to my only Brother. 

Forget thee ? not while mem'rv holds a seat 
In the distracted volume of this brain. — Sears. 

And. has he left us ? it is so— 

Our aged sire has gone ; 
While we the filial tear bestow, 

And for a Patiekt mourn. 



107 

This heart is lonely — desolate— 

My spirit is bow'd down ; 
O ! were he here to know my fate. 

I should not sigh alone. 

But, since the floods of sorrow swell, 
O Muse ! the theme forbear : 

The strain no longer breathe- — but feel- 
Give, but the silent tear. 



SATIRE ON PRESUMPTION. 

" O sons of earth ! attempt ye still to rise, 
By mountains pil'd on mountains to the skies ; 
Heaven still with laughter the vain toil surveys, 
And buries madmen in the heaps they raise." — Pope 

Shall erring sophists and logicians blend, 
Their flimsy dogmas without sense or end, 
And teach to hypocrites, to knaves, and fools 
A future state, by their imagin'd rules ? 
Pretend to inspirations never given— 
To know the unsearchable decrees of heaven ? 
Those high behests of God, not even known 
To the bright seraphs that surround His throne ? 
Were they omniscient, then they would foreknow 
And Nature's fiat to mankind might show ; 
But, shall a worm of this terrestial sod, 
Assume th' eternal attribute of God ? 
What can we know of Him or his decrees, 
But what his kindness gives us by degrees ? 
Ye, who into infinitude would pry, 
Go view the sun with an undazzl'd eye : 
Which of the grand machine is but a mite-*- 
A single ray of Heaven's transcendent light. 

Tho' Newton's vision pierc'd to spheres sublime* 
He could not see bevond the bounds of time ; 



10S 

Tho' he could tell how mighty planets roll, 
He knew no secret movement of the soul. 

Short sighted reasoners ! who cannot see 
Beyond the sixtieth part of one degree ; 
And yet to certain knowledge would pretend, 
To Nature's origin, and future end ; 
Be silent henceforth, and presume no more — 
Renounce your whims, be humble and adore. 

Washington, July 9, 1830. 



A SATIRE ON THE METROPOLIS, 

ADDRESSED TO A FlUSND. 

'Tis hard to write, but harder co forbear. — Jrr. 

Since in uhs city we have made our stay 
From earlj b ■; hoo , to the pr 
Beheld it ri 

And rice and uil; m b its growth increase : 
To new it now so stock' . i and fools, 

Subjects for jails, and pupils forth.- Bchools ; 
Since weal * i'd — 

An outward show, with I "hid ; 

\\ you . i h affected Bneer, 

And D pear : 

Vho' proud, yet m ;an, th'rf pert, yet ignorant, 
\nd more of sens- than impudence they want 
If such preposterous blo< rould shunj 

Leave- city haunts, and to 1 run! 

In every walk of life, where'er you go, 
Like u^ I ss weeds, spontan' ow. 

Go to the theatre, and there you'll find 
A large assemblage of the booby 
To libraries* — to taverns — barbers' shops — 
You nice, with pedants, drunkards, and with fops— 

1 \ certain library o r this citv was formerly the rendezvous 
of a sot disunt literati; who, instead ot discoursing on books. 



109 

Smatt'rers in ev'ry thing, but calumny, 
Whose only talent is to prate and lie. 
And even church, that consecrated place, 
Is no safe refuge from the apish race ; 
There they with sacriligious tread invade, 
And chatter loud as jackass ever bray'd : 
No modest female here can pass along 
The streets, unless insulted by this throng, 
Of staring idiots, group'd at every corner, 
The sly defamer and the mean informer. 

Will not the bard arise, when rage excites, 
And boldly write, and censure when he writes ? 
O Washington ! of that immortal name,. 
That shines emblazon' d on the page of fame ; 
Whose radiance to all ages will descend, 
In fadeless glory 'till the world shall end ; 
Th' indignant sat'rist here deplores thy fate — ■ 
Since ev'ry vagabond, from ev'ry state, 
Is congregated here, " a motley mass," 
Where gambling knaves for gentlemen can pass ;. 
The very dregs of all our commonwealth, 
Who thrive by swindling, and exist by stealth. 
Who would the ravings of such braggarts fear, 
While writhing under satire's rod severe ? 
Still let them rage — and may they ever be 
Objects of scorn, and grinning infamy. 
Others are bless'd with barreness of brains, 
Which only fit them to compute their gains / 
With feeble intellect — with shallow mind — 
With souls to dollars and to cents confin'd. 

descanted on tales of scandal : finally, like the Kilkenny cats, 
they fell to and scratched each other most furiously, " and left 
not a" tale [tail] " behind." — Enquire of a printer. 

10 



110 

Blest is it said ? yes, they are surely blest — 

No science tires, no study can molest 5 

Tho' on their minds no rays of learning shone, 

Yet more substantial blessings are their own — 

Tho' knowledge ne'er to them display'd her store, 

They boast a treasure which they value more : 

Cunning in them the place of wit supplies, 

And to be rich, with them, is to be wise ! 

Hence of the comforts which from Fortune flows, 

On them a vast profusion she bestows : 

What heed they of the luxury of thought, 

When sensual pleasures can with wealth be bought ; 

How many marts of this illicit trade, 

Disgrace our city, and its laws evade : 

And \v< 11 they may, when rulers of the land 

Are seen to mingle with the siren bund ; 

The hoar) wretch, whose glass is almost run. 

Whose vile example has debauch'd a son, 

Sinks to the grave, unpitied, by degrees — 

Victim of scorn — of impotent disease : 

But of our blooming youth what shall we say. 

By bend-like pimps untimely led astray ; 

To those fell haunts of infamy and death, 

Where hell's hotsiroc' 'round their precincts breathe ; 

Where "deep-Damnation" on their portal stands — 

Extends to votive youth his sulph'rous hands \ 

Who then pursue the lurid flame before, 

And health is lost, when virtue is no more. 

When we see silly fops and simp'ring fools.. 
Without the aid of sense or grammar rules, 
And destitute of genius ; dare compose 
Their driv'lling stuff in poetry and prose — 
Can we expect that merit e'er will thrive, 
Where neither wit nor probity can live ? 



ill 

Where sly intriguers, in and out of place, 
Whose only trait is impudence of face ; 
And from whose dull unmeaning countenance, 
Apollo turns, with a disdainful glance — 
Unblest with talents see each scribbling ass, 
Pretend to learning, and for wits would pass ! 

Sick of the theme, we come now to the close, 
And satire's rod we next will wield in prose : 
Now to contempt, we leave the scribbling crew, 
And bid to medd'ling fools a long adieu. 

Washington, Aug. 2, 1830, 



THE SLANDERER. 

WRITTEN BY THE PRINTER. 

Search for a parallel to the slanderer — 
(The self-sufficient, spitting, croaking toad)— 
The smatt'rer in every thing but calumny. 
Is it the worm, that in corruption lives ? 
The viper, in the bosom brought to life, 
That stings the warm heart of its shelt'ring friend ? 
The slimy snail, when caught and brought to light, 
That quickly shrinks within its narrow cell, 
And safety owes to meanness and to filth — ■ 
Deserving of contempt ineffable ? 
Or, the assassin base, that steals along, 
" And leaves, unseen, a dagger in your breast ?"* 
No ! none of these a parallel can be ; 
Before him, in his friendly looking glass, 
It only can be found — Ms brazen self: 
Let him gaze long, and then resolve to mend. 

■ Dr. Samttex Johnson — " Qiii capit illefacit." 



112 
AMERICAN* COIN— A NEW PATRIOTIC SONG 

BT A GINTLEMJlN OF WASHINGTON. 

Tuicb — " Ah! -what is the bosom's commotion J'' 

Ye sons of Columbia, who glory 
At Liberty's banner unfurl'd, 
Ye should value her eagles before ye, 
And send them all over the world ! 

Chomis. — Let " Liberty" long be our motto, 

And high may her bright banner wave ; 
And he who don't value her blessings 
Deserves to be spurn'd as a slave ' 
Long may the bright stars of our Union 

Illumine the motto of all — 
May Liberty frown down Disunion-, 
And millions exult in her fall ! 

Oh Liberty ! staaap'd on our coin, 
\\ ith laurels unfading bedeck. 

The brows of thy leaders, who join 
To trample on Tyranny's peck.* 

See the shield on the breast of our bir«L. 
Impervious to even blow, 

To assail which is van and absurd- 
Tie -haft- but recoil on the foe. 

I*he BITOVrs of war are seen next, 
To be thrown at invaders of right; 

And •• Erphsrilnu unum" the b 
That expresses in union there's might. 

■ lem of peace i 1 - dii play'd, 
When battle and carnage are o\ i — 

That th me vrho in ti^ht were array 'd, 
Remember their contests no more. 
Now may all the poor of our nation, 

: each purse ; 
And ever h< tction, 

And tyranny view as a curse. 
Here's a health to the good and the great, 

In every part of the earth ; 
With a hope that the day is not far 
"\\ hen all shall know iiherty's worth. 

Chorus. — Let " Liberty" long be our motto, 

And high may her bright banner wave ; 
And he who don't value her blessings 
Deserves to be spurn'd as a slave ! 

* - Sic semper tyramtis"— Motto of the seal of Virginia. 

Wuiionul Intel 



PIECES IN PROSE. 

Talk of an aged Indian Chief, of the Creek JValion, to the Hero 
of Neio- Orleans. 

Brother !— I take yon by the hand — your hand is strong 1 . It 
slew many red men. I rejoiced in their fall : they were my 
enemies, and the enemies of my people. They displeased the 
Great Spirit, and he permitted you to destroy them. The 
strangers who came over the big" water, fell by the strength 
of thy arm : they were scattered over the plain like the dead 
leaves of the forest, by a blast of wind. Their bones whiten 
on the shore of the great rolling river. 

Brother ! — The red people were very numerous. They 
covered this land, like the trees of the forest, from the big 
waters of the east to the great sea, where rests the setting sun. 
The white people came : they drove them from forest to forest, 
from river to river — the bones of our fathers strewed the path 
of their wandering. 

Brother .'--You are now strong ; we are weak : we melt away 
like the snow of spring before the rising sun. Whither must 
we go now ? Must we leave the home of our fathers, and g*o 
to a strange land, beyond the great river of the west ? That 
land is dark and desolate — we shall have no pleasure in it. 
Pleasant are the fields of our youth. We love the woods 
where our fathers led us to the chase. Their bones lie by 
the running stream, where we played in the days of our child- 
hood. When we are gone, strangers will dig them up. 

Brother ! — The great spirit made us all. You have land 
enough. Leave us, then, the fields of our youth, and the 
woods where our fathers led us to the chase. Permit us to 
remain in peace under the shade of our own trees. Let us 
watch over the graves of our .fathers^ by the streams of ©tar 
childhood. 

10* 



114 

May the Great Spirit move the heart of our Father, the 
sident, that he may open his ear to the voice of his red chil- 
dren, for they are sorrowful. 

June 23, 1825. 



Talk of an Indian Chief, who assisted in killing Gen. Mcintosh. 
Brothers ! M'Intosh is dead. He broke the law of the na- 
tion — the law which he made himself ! His face was turned to 
the whit ■ men, who wish to take our lands from us. His back 
was to his own people ; his <. ar was sltnt to the cries of our 
women and children. His h art was estranged from us. The 
words of his talk v >il : the) came to us like the 

that Hies over the marsh of the great river. The 
gain of his evil doings was in his hand. The Great Spirit turn- 
ed away his Face from him in anger, that we might takeven- 
geance on him. He fell 1>> the hands <<f red nun, at his own 
place, in tii- sight of his women and children. The false men 
] lined him, fell also with him. 
Brothers ! M'Intosh was brave — the deeds of his youth were 
\ ; hut his I: changed: he spoke the words 

of deceitfulness. II walked in crooked paths, which his 
brethren knew not 5 paths which led down to death. He de- 
I u» t and we slew him. The land is red with his blood, 
and with the blood of his friends. Our vengeance is satisfied. 
We bury the hatchet qf revenge. Let us obey the Great 
Spirit, that he may had his children in the path of their wan- 
dering. 

THE VACANT CHAIR. 

A TRUE STORT. 

Almost every day, at a certain hour, I passed by a store 
remarkable for its neatness and regularity, near the door of 
which I observed a spot unstored with goods- a little niche 
large euough to contain a chair. There, at that particular 



hour, and always in the same posture, sat the master of the 
shop, engaged in the perusal of his newspaper. There was 
a placid serenity in his countenance, which, together with the 
neatness of his shop, convinced me that he was a man of 
method, and an economist of time ■ who arranged his daily 
business so that he might^levote a portion of the day to the 
gratification of reading. O^ten, while on my way to the place 
of my laborious vocation, have I envied the apparent happy 
master of that little shop his tranquil hour. I passed by as 
usual ; but he was not in his accustomed seat ; day after day 
came, yet he was not there ! The chair remained in the same 
pl ace — m the same position, and methought I beheld the man 
of system and regularity, sitting as usual ; but, alas ! he had 
gone forever ! The chair was vacant, and he who occupied it 
was slumbering in the dust ! 

Let the cold and the insensible, who think, but never feel, 
smile at the simplicity of this little narration. As for me, 
whenever I see that vacant chair, for it yet remains in the 
same place ; it suggests a serious lesson of the uncertainty of 
our fleeting existence ; and forcibly admonishes me of the ir- 
revocable doom of all the living, which makes vacant the 
throne of the mighty monarch, as well as the chair of the hum- 
ble individual. Nov. 1, 1826. 



FROM A TRAVELLER'S PORT FOLIO. 

[TIRST COMMUNICATED TO A WASHINGTON PAPER.] 

I was travelling up the Hudson, on board of a steam-boat, 
when a circumstance occurred, the recollection of which, -is 
truly pleasing. I remember that it was a delightful afternoon 
in summer : the sky was serene, and the sweet balmy zephyrs 
played upon the face of the tranquil river. The bright path 
of the evening sun was upon the water. Beautiful villages, 
embowered in groves ; promenades shaded by lofty trees ; 
with scenes of rural elegance, interspersed with the rich, ro- 
mantic scenery of nature, rose in delightful prospect as we as- 



116 

cended the river. The company on board, consisted of a gay 
and fashionable assemblage of both sexes, whose sprightly con- 
versation contributed to heighten the interest of the scene. 
While viewing with inexpressible pleasure the prospect before 
me, my attention was arrested by the singular appearance of a 
grave, elderly gentleman, whom L observed sitting on one of 
the side scats, apparently absorb Jl in pensive musings, with 
his eyes fixed on the rolling tide. There was a melancholy 
dignity in his countenance ; while his venerable locks, grey 
with age or sorrow, hung loosely on his shoulders. His dress 
mms a coat considerably worn, and short breeches, after the old 
fashion. A half worn, broad brimmed hat, added to the gravity 
of his deportment ; while a pair of old fashioned boots com- 
pleted the costume of this singular personage. This simpli- 
city of dress induced a belief that he was no other than some 
plain old &rmer, who was returning from the city to hi- 

in tin country. Hut little attention was, therefore, paid 
. >c pert fashionables, who, promenaded the deck, to one 
whom they considered an unlettered rustic, who had cultivated 
his mind less than his farm ; and who paid more attention 
to the gaining of money, than to the acquisition of intel- 
lectual riches. Indeed, the old gentleman's taciturnity, and 
the antiquity of his dress, afforded no small amusement t» 
some merry wags — a kind of buffoons, with whom we meet in 
almost every mixed company ; and from whose unhallowed 
ridicule, not even the infirmities of age, nor the misfortunes of 
human nature are exempt. 

It happened that some gentlemen who belonged to the bar, 
had commenced a controversy on some critical point in law, 
very near the old gentleman. He occasionally regarded them 
with a look, as if to penetrate the recesses of their souls ; and 
then resumed his posture. At length, a young smart, with a 
significant glance, accosted him : " Old gentleman, what is 
your opinion } " The man of silence and mystery spoke — and 
lo ! what was our astonishment ! His countenance, which was 



117 

before shaded with the gloom of melancholy, brightened with 
intelligence ? the loftiest eloquence flowed from his tongue, 
which was so long silent ; and those eyes, which were vacantly 
fixed upon the^passing wave, now beamed with the fire of his 
soul ! The transcendent brightness of his mind now broke 
forth — the halo of genius shone around him. The disputants 
viewed him with silent wonder. The sons and daughters of 
fashion no longer cast upon him the look of contempt. Their 
importance vanished like mists before the rising sun. All eyes 
were fixed upon the extraordinary stranger — all were desirous 
to know his name. Enquiry was made — and, reader ! that 
stranger was Aaron Burr ! 



THE AUTHOR'S VALEDICTORY. 

Go now my Book, dear offspring of my brain ! thou loved 
companion of years, and sweet beguiler of my lonely, melan- 
choly hours ; while thou earnest the name of thy parent on 
the wings of the wind, to the uttermost parts of our land, re- 
member thou bearest the effusions of a head, which meditates 
no ill, and of a heart, that entertains no malice against man„ 
kind, and which would be devoted to God : that thou bearest 
the emanations of a breast, which has ever glowed with an 
ardent love of country, and with a fervent desire to be use- 
ful to my fellow mortals in the cause of freedom, of science, 
and of virtue. 

Farewell ! should the proud frown upon thee, thou share st 
the lot of humanity. Should critics assail thee, thy betters 
have been assailed by them. Were old Spencer to raise his 
reverend head ; were awful Shakspeare to rise from the tomb, 
and Milton again appear on earth, in sightless majesty : were 
they, unknown, to excel their own immortal strains, criticism 
would assail them 5 detraction would pursue them. 

Go, then ! and while Goodness applauds thee, and Beauty 
smiles upon thee, heed not the frown of the cold and the insen- 
sible ; nor th© sneer of the envious and malignant. 



A LIST OF PATRONS TO THIS WORK 



Prkstdext of thi 


United States, 


13 


J. P. Van Ness, 


Wm. Stockwell, 




Wm. H. Mills, 


James H. Fowling, 




Nath'l A. Hinkle, 


J. W. Williams, 




.Tames Larned, 


Yal. Firlong, 


6 


G. Bomford, 


Lewis Baker, 




Geo. W. DashieH, 


O. F. Throop, 




Jerh. Williams, 


John Kavanaugh, 




Amos Kendall, 


L B. Johnson, 




Charles Galpin, 


Thos. I. Jennings, 




Jos. Gales, 


J. Young, 


2 


Thos. Donoho, 


James F. Haliday, 


2 


Levi C Bootes, 


James Davis, 




Philip Smith, 


Levi Washburn, 




P. Thompson, 


A. S. LittU-john, 




Henry C Neale, 


P. Kinchy, 




William Brent, 


William Lambert, 




Henry Ashton, 


Jerh. Hammett, 




J. H. Wheat, 


Patrick Tobin, 




Mrs. F. Barnes, 


Z. R> Orfutt, 




Mons. Castello, 


James McCormick, 




Eli Stone, 


Charles Ballard, 




Daniel Johnston, 


Leveritt Knowles, 




Thos. Chilton, M. C 


Peter Force, 




David Crocket*. 


Charles M. Keller, 


2 


J. P. Qu:n. 


Thomas T. Parker, 




A. Dickenson, 


Jonathan Phillips, 




Jason Wilmarth, 


Henry Guegan, 




T. M. Bowen, 


B. Hunter, 




J. Nichol Campbell, 


G. W. Ray, 




Sam'1 Sherwood, 


William Stanwell* 




J-*mes Trahan, 


Joseph Durr, 





119 



M. Von Sykes, 
R. W. Fenwick, 
Jonas P. Keller, 
Rich. H. Harrington, 
A. H. Fowler, 
Thos. Milbourn, 
Wm. H. Martin, 
John Tucker, 
David Glenn, 
Bernard Herty, 
Henry Johnson, 
Elisha Johnson, 
George Kensett, 
Margaret Delany, . 
Charles S. Howard, 
William Wilson, 
Sam'l P. Walker, jun. 
Henry M'Ceeny, 
Joseph Harbough, 
Alex. Moore, 
Abby Page, 
Geo. Watterston, 
Augustus Fleury, 
Henry B. Blagrove, 
W. A.. Gordon, 
John Keith, 
A. G. Glynn, 
H. C. Williams, 
John C Rives, 
Jos. P. M'Corkle, 
C. B. D***s, 
Chas. Pryse, 
A. L. Settle, 
James Linch, 
Nath'l Carusi,. 



Wm. R. Spalding; 
Wm. Archer, 
Edward Simmes, 
6 Wm. A. Maddox, 
Thomas Hunter, 
John Boyle, 
John R. Watson, 
Henry Peake, 
Nicholas Callan, 
John B. Locke, 
M. P. Callan, 
John Este, 
Z. D. BrashearSj 
Jacob A. Bender, 
Lund Washington. 
Thomas L. Noyes, 
R. C Weightman, 
F. Jefferson, 
Joseph Cuvillierj 
Richard Barry, 
John Judge, 
S. L. Dashiel, 
Dennis Nalley, 
Thos. Hagarty, [Alex.] 
John A. BrightwelL 
?J, B. Robinson, 
Wm. Wallis, 
W. B. Dade, 
David Appier, 
R. R. Biur, 
Wm. Elliot, 
Robert Clarke, 
Jilson Dove, 
John F. Callan, 
Wm. W. Leyland. 



120 



F. Orme, 

J. Y. Freeman, 

K. Hinton, 

Jas. W. Watson, 

John H. Goddard, 

James Kennedy, 

Wm. O'Bryon, 

Thomas Larner, 

Wm. G. Bruce, 

J. T. Forbes, 

J. E. Craig, 

Joseph Harbaugh, 

J. Nightingale, 

Wm. flrecr, 

J. A. M. Duncanson, 

ge Nay lor, 
James A. Kennedy! 

\V( 11, 

John H. Gibbff, 
John A. Donahoo, 

John Kremer, 

Archibald McGrath, 
Martin King, 
Merrit Tarlton, 
Muurice P. Hore, 

-rnith, 
H. Langley, 
Bcnj. W. Huntt, 
.lav. McXerhany, 
Thos. Steele, 
Christ'r Cammack, 
John Waters, 
James Riordan, 
Selby Parker, 
L. H. Goland, 



Charles W. Green, 
C. W. Boteler, 
James W. Greer, 
W. Thompson, 
Charles F. Ellis, 
M. D. C. Marsh, 
Philemon Moss, 
Edward W. Clark, 
Thomas Murray, jun. 
Wm. Speiden, 
Geo. Adams, 
Thomas Lyndall, 
Philip Inch, 
▲lex* M'Williams, 
Thos. C Wilson, 
R. Kirk wood, 
John Turner, 
James Sessford, 
John Hemming, 
Jas. M. Burke, 
John Hoburg, 
Ab. Denham, 
Daniel Fister, 
John Trent, 
Mich. McDermott, 
P. Sturtevant, 
Thomas Magi 11, 
John P. Pepper, 
John Gardiner, 
Ed\> ard Merrit, 
G. H. Belding, 
Daniel D. Addison, 
Geo. Bede, 
Wm. Havman, 
S. A. Elliot, print. 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Sept 2009 

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